


Scourge of the Iron Golem

by rainphee



Series: Metal Gear Fantasy [1]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dragons, High Fantasy, M/M, blackmailing, bosselot is mentioned as well. meiryl is a side thing but its important fuck all yall, dramatic high fantasy fighting, hal and his buddies go to kill a monster, metal gear sahelanthropus is here, oh also if it wasnt clear from the text kaz and v were married, oh also witches and enchantments and golems and ect, past familial death, past solid snake/grey fox (mentioned), theres a lot of dramatic stuff, this is metal gear high fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-03-27 12:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19013218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainphee/pseuds/rainphee
Summary: There is a beast threatening the kingdom, a massive golem of metal and fire. There's only one thing King Hal can do- he has to collect a team to kill the golem before it can kill them. Amongst them, the knight Meryl Silverburgh, the mage Mei Ling, page Raiden, and the legendary warrior: Dark Snake. Together, they have to race against time to save the kingdom, and stay together to survive.





	1. Of Kings and Crusades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dark Snake is approached for a deed.

It is midday when the King comes to visit him.

Snake is used to living alone. It has been a long time since he has even attempted to integrate himself into society- he was almost proud of how self-sustaining he was now. A cabin near the Blackwood, a pack of loyal and adorable hunting hounds, and a small plot of farmland to provide him with the vegetables he needed to keep healthy. The only reason he had to go down the beat-up dirt road that led eventually to the nearest village was to get more ale, and he was working on brewing his own moonshine so he could close that connection forever.

The truth is that Snake wants to be alone. He wants to spend his days in his own little cabin, dipping into the woods to hunt and caring for his dogs until the arrow of sickness or cold or some other malady pierced his heart and he was allowed to rot away in the home he had built. 

But fate has never left Dark Snake be, not years ago and not now, and he is in his garden, gathering the early summer squash, when the convoy arrives at his door.

His dogs barrel around from behind the house first, a rolling pack of fur and snapping teeth, standing their ground and protecting their territory. The horse at the front of the line rears at their barking, settling with its rider tapping its side with their heels. Snake stands and watches, eyes shaded.

It’s a shiny, important sort of convoy, the riders wearing armor that had never seen combat and horses bred for show, not war. He does not make any move to quiet his dogs, nor does he bow when he sees the royal crest embroidered on the tassets of the saddles.

The four horses at the side- each a gleaming white- step back, pulling away for the one at the back, and it’s this steed that makes Snake’s back stiffen somewhat. The smooth black hide of the beast was characteristic of only one thing, and Snake knew it well. 

Only the king could ride a black horse.

The king is wearing a helm, something useless and carved in gold that looked too big for him, but it shades his face and makes him hard to see. Snake spots a few errant flips of hair from under the helm shining silver in the midday sun.

The dogs keep barking, and the horses stay their line, and the king looks down at Snake and Snake looks up at him, and his knights fidget in their shiny armor.

“Are you Dark Snake?” comes the first break in their awkward silence, and Snake does not respond. The king’s voice is shaky, nervous, almost like he was unused to public speaking. Instead, he bends down and keeps picking his harvest, ignoring them all.

One of the knights- the one to the king’s left- shifts in their saddle, clearly drawing themself up in offense.

“Your king is speaking!” they say, and Snake quirks an eyebrow up at their voice. It doesn’t sound like a man’s voice, but he had known plenty of female knights in his time.

“Vixen!” snaps the king, and  _ there  _ was that command born of royalty and privilege seeping through his voice. The knight- Vixen- settles back down, and though Snake could not see behind her mask, she looked annoyed.

They wait as he finishes picking his vegetables, brushes his hands off of the dirt and nettle-stings, and carefully opens the gate and latches it shut. They watch in silence as Snake soothes his dogs and places the basket of vegetables on the bench by his door, strips off his working gloves, and finally stands to face them, his pack at his sides.

“I am,” he says, finally. The king visibly deflates, and he faintly hears a sigh of relief, the monarch stepping down from his steed and pulling off his helm in an almost-elegant movement.

The king is a skinny man, wiry, with broad shoulders and a shock of silver hair that seemed to have tangled in his helm. He squints at Snake, a good inch or so shorter than him, with heavy bags under his grey eyes and a slightly trembling grip on his carved golden headpiece. If he had appeared to Snake without the golden shoulderguards, the fine boots, the high-quality rings, he would have assumed him a young merchant’s son who had just started his own firm. He looks nothing like a king.

“Dark Snake,” he begins, eyes looking everywhere but his face, “I have come to ask you for a deed.”

“I’m not a knight anymore. Go away and ask someone else.”

The king’s entourage collectively flinches, armor clanging together in a cacophony of stiffening backs and clenched weapons. Snake knows that a crueler king would have him punished for his rudeness, of speaking to royalty so flippantly, but he wasn’t fond of their sort on a general basis. Call it experience.

“You are the only one I  _ can  _ ask, Sir Snake.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

The king sighs. For the first time, Snake sees how pronounced the bags under his eyes were, how his hair was tangled and his skin ashen.

“If I had any other option I would have taken it, Sir Snake,” he murmurs. “Know that I come to you with my head bowed and my palms open. You are the only man in the kingdom who has ever achieved what you achieved. You are the man who had saved us from evil once before, and I have faith you can do it again.”

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong, and Snake now reads the fatigue and stress in the king’s eyes, in his shaking hands. So he stays silent. 

“So I ask of you again: I have come to you for a deed.”

Snake doesn’t want to say this.

“What deed?”

The king sighs again, rubs his eye with one hand. Every moment Snake spends looking at him, he seems less like a monarch and more like a tired young man, just like him. “A monster has been terrorizing the country. A golem of iron and magic called Sahelanthropus.”

“Sahelanthropus...” Snake unconsciously parrots. He hasn’t heard of it, but then again, he didn’t hear of much nowadays.

“It’s bigger than a mountain, they say, and has fire in its belly...” pipes up the young knight from earlier- Vixen. The king looks back, annoyed, but does not tell her to stand down.

“Indeed. We have no choice but to take the best of the best, Sir Snake, and you-”

“I know who you think I am.” Snake thinks to the dusty room in his cabin behind them, dark and untended. Inside, his armor gleams, taunting him even from here. Could he don it again?

“The monster is in the mountains now, but at any moment it could go into the countryside, attack towns and villages, cause mass hysteria. I can offer you whatever you want. I just- I need your help, Sir Snake,” pleaded the king. “Please.”

Very few men ever heard that word from a king. 

And Snake had never before heard a king beg.

He looks down at him, looks at the fidgeting knights, hears the desperation in his voice and the fatigue in his eyes. Something was wrong here, and whether Snake likes it or not, it would have come crashing to his door eventually. Better to face it head-on than ignore it and drink himself to damnation.

“I will return with you,” he says, and King Hal’s eyes shine with relief. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go y'all... this will be updating every week over the next 14 weeks!! i hope you enjoy <3


	2. Of Knights and Princesses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the King goes home with his knights.

It takes longer than Hal wanted for them to leave. Snake refuses to be easily uprooted from his home, and it takes him hours to tidy away food and materials, to stash away what meager gold he had, to throw the food in his home on the compost pile so it wouldn’t rot while he was gone. The dogs take even longer- Snake was adamant that they needed to be tended to, and  _ that  _ was a particularly aggravating three-hour detour to the nearest village and a long chat with an old woman who was far too cheerful at the sight of the once-knight.

Not that he could blame her. Poison Snake was once lauded as the handsomest man in the kingdom, and as his son, Snake was a spitting image, holding all the rugged attractiveness that came with it. 

No, now was not the time to think about Poison Snake. It wasn’t the time to think of those terrible things- it never was. Hal shakes his head as Snake  _ finally  _ emerges from the woman’s cottage, less six dogs. He shoulders his pack and begins to walk on the dirt path that slices through the tiny village, ignoring Hal and his knights completely and ripping yet another frustrated groan from Meryl.

Meryl was an odd and rather unexpected choice for a mission of this importance, but Hal was no fool, and his mind was sharp. Ember Vixen is the best and the brightest of the knights he oversaw, a quick hand and a quick mind paired with her infamous quick tongue. Her heart is full of fire and Hal trusted her, despite the side-eyes his decision had drawn. It wasn’t uncommon for kings to take knights to their beds, and he knew his choice had started more than a few whispers in court, but Winter Wolf had turned Hal down not months ago, and besides, Vixen’s tastes were more geared towards... her own.

He would rather have rumors and a hand he could trust at his side than silence and unsteadiness, so he chose Meryl. Hal had so little he could put faith in, every goblet potentially poisoned, every shadow holding a possible killer. Meryl was a friend, and maybe he let her lip off more than he rightly should have, but he doesn’t mind.

The sun is setting when Snake finally joins them with a horse, its mottled hide and feathered legs speaking of a beast used to the fields rather than combat. Sitting astride it, he does not look like a warrior, but then again, Hal supposes that he never really looked like a king, either.

“Finally,” Meryl groans as he joins their convoy. Snake glowers at her briefly, but it’s gone in a second, and he pulls up next to Hal’s steed. His bulky mount and his own significant height makes him tower compared to the rest of them; Hal looks up at him and feels like he’s looking at the side of a mountain. Awe-inspiring and powerful, but cold, stony, emotionless. A man carved out of rock.

It takes them most of a two-day trip to return to the capital, and there’s even a slight delay there as they have to sneak into the city to avoid being seen. All the while, Hal’s gaze continues to stray unfailingly to Snake. 

It’s not as if he’s never seen him before- Hal remembers meeting him, him and his brother, in the days before his rule. They were the best of the young knights, shining stars, the sons of a legend; Hal had never had more than a passing word with either. Now, being so close to him, he isn’t sure what to say.

The man is intriguing, a legend in the flesh, yet so distant and frigid that he feels a thousand miles away from him still. Meryl teases him for it, as the two of them sit next to each other as they set up camp, hiding in the shadow of the city walls as they wait for the security of nightfall to return to the castle.

“I get it, Your Majesty,” she says, because no matter how many times he asks her to use his real name, she’s never quite shaken off her training. “He’s good looking. Can’t you keep your eyes somewhere else?”

“I thought you didn’t like men, Vixen.”

“I don’t.” She takes the tankard being passed around from Coal Raven, takes a long swig. “But I’m not blind. And you can’t keep your eyes off him.”

Hal flushes and turns away from her, and she laughs, barking and rough. Meryl is all sharp edges, crackling flames, and her freckles seem to almost glow in the low light of sunset.

When they finally manage to crack open the side-gates and sneak into the palace, it’s night, and the outside is almost as dark as the inside. Hal swallows as Meryl grabs a torch from the wall and lights it with a strike from her tinderbox, pulling off her helmet and shaking out her mane of red hair. The knights follow him up the dungeons, pausing to let them all shed their armor and hide it in one of the empty side rooms. The dark passages still smell faintly of iron and piss from when they were in heavier use, and Snake’s eyes glint in the torchlight.

They emerge into the high hall, and Hal can feel the pressure of his home weighing on him. It’s not an entirely unfamiliar feeling, but he had almost forgotten it, when his castle had been filled with sunlight. Without her here, the place aches, the lack of her presence a wound.

Moonlight stripes through high windows and the party disassembles at Hal’s murmured command. Only Meryl remains, rubbing at her arm where her armor had been strapped. She douses the torch and kicks it to the side, sizing up Snake now that they’re both on solid ground- and her territory. He returns her gaze, and Hal wants to wither under their fierce stares.

“I feel like we didn’t start off on good terms, Sir Snake.” Meryl sticks her hand out roughly. “Ember Vixen, right hand of King Hal Emmerich. Most call me Meryl.”

For a moment, Hal fears that Snake will spurn her, but he reciprocates, shaking the proffered hand. “Dark Snake. It’s good to meet you, Ember Vixen, and it’s good to know I’ll have a capable knight on my side when I need her.”

Something in Meryl glows with pride. Hal couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the gleam in her eyes. Not everyone got complimented by the legendary Dark Snake.

No one bothers them as Meryl leads them through the castle passageways, her footsteps sure and practiced. Her and Hal both know where they’re going, but trailing in the middle, he catches Snake watching everything intently, gathering information. 

Emma is waiting for them before the door, just like he asked. She’s worrying at the hem of her shawl, but she looks up quickly as they approach, her glasses gleaming in the light from the torch lit to her left. As soon as he comes in range, Emma tackles Hal, embracing him tightly before pulling back to glare.

“You took too long,” she hisses. “You said you’d be back in a day! Maybe two! Not three! We don’t have time for this, Hal.”

“Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly, but he’s too tired to actually feel bad. “Is everything ready?”

“They should be in there. I’m going back to bed.” She pushes her glasses up on her nose and Snake steps gingerly into the circle of warm torchlight. Her jaw drops. “Is that...”

“Princess Emma,” Snake says, and dips his head. It’s more than he’s ever given Hal. 

She watches him carefully. Emma has always been like that- with wide eyes that watched, making sure of details, double-checking. Hal supposes that he does it too. It’s a byproduct of being raised by Huey, an unfortunate part of their lives in a palace occupied by him as well. She trains her eyes on Snake, then as she turns to leave, they flick to Hal, relaying a message he can read clear as writing:

_ Dangerous. Don’t trust. _

But he knew that before.

So he ignores her warning and pushes open the door.


	3. Of Magicians and Pages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the party meets.

Snake isn’t sure what he’s expecting when the king opens the door. He’s been visibly on edge this entire time, in a way that Meryl’s trained hypervigilance can’t explain. She’s a knight protecting her king, but Hal is genuinely upset, genuinely afraid. It didn’t seem like the air of a man in his own house.

So, perhaps Snake is a little on edge too. Princess Emma glares at him mightily before she trots away down the dark hall- a clear message:  _ I don’t trust you _ . She’s justified, but it makes him think that there’s some deeper secret here, a tangled web he can’t see past. He’s ready for something terrible behind that door, when Hal shoulders it open.

It’s not terrible. It’s a repurposed office.

Furniture is shoved haphazardly to the side in the small room, the dust still lying on some shelves evidence that this room was heavily ignored before the king moved his little operation here. A bedroll is on the floor, cloth rumpled, telling of people having slept there recently, and there’s a pile of leather knapsacks nearby- some empty, some bulging full. 

More importantly, however, there are two people inside waiting for them. The first is a young woman with bright, intelligent eyes and gleaming black hair, pulled up and braided elaborately on top of her head. She’s wearing common folks’ clothes, and breeches for riding, but when she shifts to greet them, Snake catches sight of a string of runes drawn on each wrist and a silver chain under the fabric of her shirt.  _ A mage. _

The other person only side-eyes them from where he’s leaning on the far wall. He’s almost unnaturally pale, hair nearly stark white. He looks much younger than the rest of them- he can’t be much older than seventeen- but Snake can just spot slightly darker scarring over his hands and wrists that hint at experience beyond his years. His eyes are cold blue and Snake meets them evenly, brushing over the knife that is clearly belted to his waist.

“You’re back! We thought you might never get here,” the magician greets, her voice light and friendly. Meryl softens when she looks at her, her grin teasing at feelings hidden just below the surface.

“His Majesty didn’t bring the best knight in the field for nothing,” she boasts, and Snake has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Hal, however, is not so polite. He elbows Vixen with an air of familiarity and crosses the room to a desk on the other side, picking up his own pair of glasses and slipping them on.

“Sir Snake,” he says, turning back to him. His eyes are magnified slightly behind the glass. “This is the team I have assembled to help us take down Sahelanthropus. You’ve met Ember Vixen- Meryl- already. She is the strongest and most trusted of my knights.”

Meryl preens a little under the attention. “To help us, we also have Mei Ling- a traveling mage who has deigned to stay with me the past few years to help me develop my own arcane skills. She is one of the best healers and combat magicians in the kingdom.”

Mei Ling winks and smiles. She’s cute- a little too cute, really. Snake can feel the power in her bones whenever he gets a bit too close to her, but he’s worked with many magic-users in his time, and it’s always good to have one on his side. He bows his head slightly to her, and she returns the gesture.

“And this will be your page, Raiden. He’s also one of my best, and his help will be invaluable.”

Raiden’s pale cheeks go a little ruddy at the praise, but he seems determined to look away no matter what. Snake can tell, however, that he isn’t to be underestimated. The scars on his knuckles tell a story he’s not quite privy to yet, but one day he might be.

“Raiden will be assisting you and informing you of our mission. We leave in the morning, as soon as possible.”

Snake scowls a little more. “Early start, huh?”

“We have very little time available to waste, Sir Snake. Every minute is another opportunity for Sahelanthropus to leave the mountains and get into my countryside, attack my people. I intend to take full advantage of what I have.”

Hal’s hands are balled into fists at his sides, his knuckles white against his already pale skin. Snake has to resist the urge to grab his shoulder to steady him- he looks practically dead on his feet. 

Thankfully, Meryl pipes up with what Snake didn’t want to say. “Your Majesty, with all due respect, you should take some of that time to rest. You look...”

“Awful. I know.” The King rubs at his eyes, smearing his glasses pretty severely. “Take what time you need to rest and prepare, Sir Snake. We will be awake by dawn.”

“Wait.” Snake finally reaches forwards to grab him, keeping a tight grip so he couldn’t sway. “ _ We?  _ King, you’re not coming with us.”

“Yes, I am,” Hal snaps, pulling away so harshly that he nearly loses his balance for real, his eyes flashing grey fire. “And that is not a request, Dark Snake. It is an  _ order _ . There will be no exceptions.”

He’s still glaring at Snake when he turns heel and leaves, his cape fluttering in the movement. Meryl grimaces and follows soon after, Mei Ling on her tail, gently wishing him and Raiden good night, before the door shut with a heavy thud and left Snake alone with his new page.

Raiden picks himself up from leaning on the wall and opens one of the packs, pulling out a bedroll and offering it to Snake. Once he takes it, he retreats to the one already on the floor, sitting and stretching his skinny legs.

“Make yourself comfortable, Sir Snake,” Raiden says, finally meeting Snake’s eyes. “I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little shy of my 1k word meet but ah well! still a good one


	4. Of Journeys and Enchantments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the party begins their journey.

The sun wakes Hal up, not that it needs much to do so. His rest has been fitful at best, the same as it has been for days. Every bump and change in the light stirs him from his slumber, waking him up to a room that was far too cold and enormous and empty for someone so small. He is grateful when he sees the faint glow of the sun on the horizon, an excuse to shake off his heavy sheets and devote himself to the task at hand.

It doesn’t take long for him to get ready. Hal had packed for this trip _long_ ago, it is a simple task to grab his bags and pull his hood over his face as he leaves for the guards’ barracks. He worries at his bottom lip as he goes, knowing what he needed to do but still wanting to avoid her.

Last night, his treatment of Snake had earned him an (in his opinion) well-deserved shouting match with Meryl, who at the end had stormed off without really finishing their argument. At the time, Hal had been boiling with rage, the weight of days of travel and even more days of stress weighing down on him. He had simply snapped. He thinks he cried a little too.

But Meryl was his friend, and she deserved an apology- not to mention she was integral to their mission. No, Hal was no coward. He would say sorry, because he was.

Just before he knocks at her door, however, she pulls it open herself. She looks just as tired as he feels, dark circles under her eyes, her armor half-on. Even the freckles on her cheekbones look dull. They’re all so, so tired.

“I’m sorry,” Hal says. Meryl’s head drops, staring at the floor. Her thumb rubs over the wood of her doorframe, and the chainmail makes faint metallic sounds.

“I’m sorry too,” she mumbles. “It’s rough. You know that better than anyone, it’s just- rough. I’m tired.”

Moments like these come so infrequently with them, somehow always marred by their status, by Hal’s authority over her. He treasures them, no matter how small. It’s a reminder that, while she is his knight, she does really care.

“I’ll see you in the yard,” he says, because he can’t think of anything else. She looks up and nods, and just before he goes, she bumps his shoulder with her fist. Not even hard enough to bruise, but he knows what it means. An olive branch.

The sun isn’t even all the way up still, when Hal makes his way to the open air of the castle yard. His team is waiting, just like they said they would, and the early morning glow catches bits of metal and the edges of faces and bags. The whole scene is trapped in twilight.

There’s Mei Ling, the glow from her runes more noticeable in the low light as she runs her hand through her hair and pulls it back at the top of her head. There’s Raiden, pack slung across his back, his pale skin and hair almost shiny in the dark, metal boots gleaming.

And there’s Snake, in full armor, and Hal catches his gasp between his teeth because he’s never seen anybody look like _this_ in armor before. Dark Snake’s suit is old, roughed up on the edges, a few scratches marring the paint, but the serpent on his breastplate is as vivid as ever, like a living thing. His sword hangs at his hip, on the opposing side of the hooked chain in a coil on the other side. The metal accents his musculature, making him stand somehow taller and prouder than before. Snake on his own was distractingly handsome, but Snake in his armor looks like a living legend.

Hal draws his cloak tighter around himself in the chill of the early morning. Everything was happening so fast- but then, it needed to for them to be successful. And they _had_ to be successful. There was no room for any other thoughts.

Meryl doesn’t take long to emerge as well, and her armor clanks as she moves, the sounds loud to Hal’s hypersensitive ears. She takes her place next to Mei Ling, the bags still prominent under her eyes, pack slung on her back. Hal watches them all. He feels like he’s drawn thin, at some kind of breaking point. Everything is too much.

He nods once- a sharp gesture- and the group turns to leave, none of them speaking. Moments before they sneak out of the side door, to leave the way they entered not too long ago, Hal’s eye is drawn to one of the balconies overlooking the yard. Emma stands there, her shoulders tight and hands gripping the banister. She stares down and locks eyes with him, and he gives a faint, small wave before he turns and slips into the passage behind his team.

He swears he saw a shadow behind her, one they both knew far too well, watching intently. He hopes to all heavens that it wasn’t _him_.

Snake finally breaks the silence after they had saddled their horses and were riding away from the city, the sounds of hooves in the early morning echoing in the dirt roads leading out. Hal spots people beginning to wake up for the day, their eyes immediately drawn to a group of strangers riding so close to daybreak. Snake has the good sense to wear a cloak over his armor as well, pulling it on moments before he mounted his horse, so the prying eyes of Hal’s people slide over them quickly.

“Do we have a plan here?” he rumbles, once they’re far enough away from prying ears, eyes still trained on the road ahead. “This operation seems kind of rushed.”

“We can’t kill the golem with normal means, of course,” Hal replies, drawing up to ride by his side. The early sunlight falls low through the leaves, and dapples the ground with faint glows. “We need magic.”

“I thought you brought a magician so we _would_ have magic.”

“I’m no good at enchanting things, Sir Snake,” Mei Ling chimes in from behind. “I’m here as a healer and as combat if I absolutely must. No, you need an enchanted weapon. Do you know about the Witch of the Wood?”

Snake scowls. Hal begins to think that maybe his face is just like that. “Yes, I know about her. We’re going to have to find her familiars first. I don’t like the odds on this _deed_ , Your Majesty. It’s beginning to sound like more of a suicide mission.”

Hal flinches at the phrase. It’s the first time Snake has referred to him using his proper title, and Hal isn’t able to tell if it’s respectful or somehow more insulting. “I’ve recorded the reported locations of the Twin Serpents from as far back as a year ago. We’ll find her.”

He tries hard to not let it show how nervous he is. He tells himself that they’ll find the Witch because if he stops he knows he’ll break down, held apart by the barest of threads. They _have_ to succeed. There is no other option.

They move forward. The land grows more wild, the pathways they follow either edged by bracken and trees or showing open fields dotted with cows or the budding crops of spring. Hal can’t stop himself from staring as they trot by, eyes wide. He’s so used to being cooped up in the palace, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city, that seeing his kingdom is enchanting. He grimaces as he realizes that, if Sahelanthropus makes it out of the mountains to the north, these sort of places will be the first ones down, the first casualties to what could be his biggest mistake.

Though they ride throughout the day, the sun rising and setting again, the Blackwood is still a long way off when they make camp. Everything in the lower half of Hal’s body feels like sawdust when he dismounts and ties his horse with the others, and even Mei Ling stretches and mumbles something vaguely complain-y under her breath. The grove they’re in helpfully already has a small bald patch in the middle, and Meryl scuffles around in the brush, gathering kindling.

“Did any of you bring a bow and arrows, or do we have to subsist on what we brought?” Raiden asks. Meryl elbows him.

“We have more than enough, don’t whine. What are you, still in jester’s college?”

Raiden’s eyes go wide and Hal chuckles under his breath- he can’t help it. He hides his face behind his hand. Raiden always seems to go paler when he blushes. “Meryl! Come on!”

“I can always just shoot them, if I’ve had enough rest,” Mei Ling grins. Her hands gleam with the edges of power, and the sparks flicker between her knuckles. Meryl, who’s been attempting to work with the fire for a bit now, finally strikes her flint just right, and the ember catches the dry grass and twigs and begins to crackle pleasantly in the evening light.

“Shooting them would be a bad idea,” Snake says suddenly. His voice is deep and commanding, and the whole group falls silent under its sound. “Animals can smell magic. Shoot one and the whole forest will flee in minutes.”

The only sounds that follow are the crackle of the campfire and Raiden shifting on the dirt. Snake walks up and sits down slowly, his cloak pooling around his hips and his armor clanking together. In the stark lighting, the sharp lines and angles of his face are washed in orange, his eyes inscrutable- until he leans back, and Hal thinks he sees a drop of whimsy in them.

“Besides,” he says, eyes flicking to Raiden, “jesters aren’t known for their stealth.”

The group erupts in laughter and cries of indignance, and Hal watches with an odd feeling in his chest. He’s been working under the weight of his stress for so long now that here, in the warm firelight, something in him unknots, finally.

_Maybe we_ can _do this,_ he thinks, and the thought is giddy and free enough that he breaks into a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE WORLD'S BIGGEST SHOUTOUT TO MY DEAR FRIEND [KOOB](https://koobiie.tumblr.com/) WHO MADE THE ART FOR MY BIRTHDAY!!!! i love it so much thank you aaaaaa


	5. Of Mercenaries and Chases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an attack is made.

They quickly fall into a sort of rhythm. Snake is, quite frankly, simply amazed at how easy it is for them all to mesh. He expects Meryl and Raiden to be used to a strict routine, but much to his surprise, both Hal and Mei Ling adapt to the grueling schedule with little complaint. They wake before dawn, ride for hours, and when they bed down, take turns watching camp. 

The days pass with Snake’s newfound teammates worming their way into his mind and heart. They chat often and deeply, because there’s little else to do. He learns that Mei Ling has traveled all over the world in pursuit of her arcane gifts, and has taught Hal how to make werelights, but little else. He learns that Raiden was raised by warriors and once loved a woman- or perhaps never loved her at all. He learns that Meryl knows how to ice skate when winter comes around.

Hal is, however, notably more subdued. It seems to Snake that he is hiding, or perhaps so intently focused on their mission that he does not have the energy to talk with his team. What puzzles him, though, is why that would be. 

Snake has met kings before. He remembers Hal’s father- a bastard of a man who cared very little about things other than himself. And he’s met men who consider themselves kings, and there’s very little difference between the two. Desert Ocelot sticks in his mind briefly like a thorn, and Snake’s hands tighten on his reins.

The simple fact of the matter was that Hal was a king, and as a king, he would never be as directly affected by the golem as his people would be if he failed. It was hard to care about something truly unless it directly impacted you. And that was why Snake begins to feel, on the third day, when the leafy shadow of the Blackwood is beginning to be a hard line on the horizon, that Hal might be hiding something.

The Blackwood is a treacherous place, and it inches closer and closer as they ride, a faint smudge transformed into a wall of thorny trees. Snake lives next to the place, has become mildly familiar with it due to his years of close proximity, but he’s still scared. The Blackwood sprawls over the edge of the kingdom’s borders, and some say it goes on forever, the trees only growing larger and thicker across, the leaves blocking out the sun. They say that twisted lions roam amongst the trees, giant and spiked, and their eyes glow blue like hell’s fire on branches older than time.

Snake doesn’t put much stock in rumors like those, but the Blackwood is ancient, and it is more than he can ever hope to comprehend. The trees grow thicker around them as the sun begins its descent, and unconsciously, the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

They are in the Blackwood, and soon, hopefully, they will find its Witch.

“The last recorded place,” Hal mumbles as he stops the group, pulling a slightly crumpled map from his pack. “Was... mgh. This looks like nothing...”

Snake rides up beside him and cranes his neck to get a better view of Hal’s map. Just like all maps of the Blackwood, it eventually turns into a twisted tangle of lines only suggesting the vaguest idea of a forest there- no landmarks, no places to rest. Where they are now is one of the thinner parts.

Helpfully, Meryl is here too, and she points out the scribbled ‘X’ on what looks like it could be a crag. “There, right?”

“Ah! Yes. So we go there first.” Hal has the good sense to not put the map back, but folds it over his horses’ neck as he urges the beast on, eyes flicking from paper to trees. The columns of bark begin to get thicker, more filled with bracken. Snake hears the crying of distant birds in the forest’s branches and the crack of sticks under their hooves. Everything seems more intense, past-noon light falling in thick patches on the ground as it edges the world in gold.

They make it to the crag, eventually. It’s not much more than a large pile of rocks, and it definitely doesn’t have the giant, twisting shapes of the Twin Serpents lying in coils on its surface. Hal sighs and waves his hands irritatedly at a few sunning lizards, who skitter into crannies and disappear. A shadow falls over them as he looks back at his map, and Snake smells the edge of rain on the horizon.

The sun sinks lower and lower in the sky and things continue like that for a long, long while _.  _ They jump from marked location to marked location, cross each one off their list as each one proves barren of serpents, giant magic-kind or otherwise. Meryl and Mei Ling fall back to chat with one another, and Raiden sits in the middle, eyes distant, hands loose on his reins. And yet Snake feels his entire body on edge. 

Clouds roll in, and the scent of rain gets ever-stronger, promising a downpour sooner rather than later. As the clouds boil abovehead, so does Snake’s paranoia, digging into his skull, never truly gone away even after so long. Something is wrong, and he doesn’t know what it is. He swears, sometimes, he hears howling between the trees.

It takes hours for the storm to break, heavy with the weight of rain, and when it does, they have just arrived at another landmark: a gully, deeper than expected, complete with small cliffs and a ridge that looks like it could maybe poke above the treeline. Once again, no scales. A fat drop of rain lands on Hal’s map and, just like that, the sky lets loose.

They’re drenched in moments. Hal curses loudly as his map is soaked and shoves it unceremoniously in his bag, then proceeds to awkwardly cover his head with his hands. Meryl and Mei Ling make sharp, aborted noises of surprise and disdain, and Raiden visibly flinches.

Snake feels water begin to run down his neck and his lungs are stuffed with cotton. He can barely breathe. Something is wrong, wrong,  _ wrong-  _ they are in danger and they need to leave  _ right now _ -

The first arrow slices through the rain and hits him on the flank. 

Snake’s horse rears and whinnies and all hell breaks loose in a single instant. A shower of arrows come from their left and he can barely grip his sword, slick with rainwater. The satisfying  _ thunk  _ sounds from his right of Meryl catching more than a few arrows with her shield, accompanied by the electric crackle of Mei Ling’s magic. It doesn’t take long for their foes to approach and reveal themselves as they slink through the darkness, just as soaked as they are.

Their horses prance in frenzied circles, archers beginning to restring their weapons. There are maybe thirteen that Snake can see, only three with bows, the rest carrying an array of weaponry that would have made his old teachers weep with anger. The sharp gleam of swords, the heavy weight of maces and clubs, all shine through the rain and Snake is dizzy keeping track of them all. Mismatched armor sets slick with water and the tossing heads of untrained horses make their foes into a rolling mass of threat and shadow. One passes his vision, and he sees a design emblazoned on their shoulderplate:  _ Foxhound. _

Snake trots in front of Hal and raises his sword, and for a moment, he can smell brimstone in the air.

And the world explodes. 

Lighting sears the air as their opponents fling themselves at them, screaming incomprehensibly, metal flashing. Snake parries one sword and catches another in the armored crook of his elbow, forcing the wielder back into the mud. Hal’s horse rears back and nearly flings him off, behind him, Raiden is threatening an enormous man with a mace to match. Meryl is a reddish blur, smeared by rain, moving fast as a spark, and Mei Ling races by with trails of magic to suit.

A heavy metal clunk. The sound of moving chains.

Snake shadows Hal’s side as he kicks a man who’s dismounted, hearing his nose crunch underneath his boot. Meryl bites back a scream and he sees her shrug away an iron bat before she instantly retaliates with a left hooked swing. Mei Ling and Raiden dance around each other in flashes of steel and power. The sky screams. A man is dead in the mud and his head is crushed by a horses’ hoof. 

An inhuman scream echoing. The huffing of horses pulling a great weight.

An arrow flies by and Snake is just in the right frame of mind to catch it with his shield edge before it spears Hal in the shoulder. Raiden gets too close and punches a man so hard he sees a tooth fly away. They are forced back, towards the cliff, and Meryl spits in rage, her sword lashing out and a man screaming. Mei Ling has blood on her hands and Hal has blood on his face but it isn’t his.

They are losing. There’s too many, too fast. The ground slips, wet and churned, from below their feet, and Snake bites his tongue and feels his lip split. Behind him, the wall of the crag looms, growing closer as they are forced back inch by inch- and he can feel  _ something,  _ something coming, something enormous and heavy and huge and being brought here step by torturous step.

Snake doesn’t have to wait long. Not at all. He catches sight of two men with horses, and a giant iron cage with an open door, at the edge of the clearing before a dragon flings itself at them and scatters them like leaves in the wind, crashing against the side of the cliff and leaving a smear of blood behind. Hal draws up behind Snake, and he can hear him nearly hyperventilating.

The creature is ugly, but only because it has been made to be. A thick muzzle of twisted metal is clamped over its jaw, only the barest gap of teeth and a firey glow visible. It shakes its massive body and drops of sizzling hot dragons’ blood land on Snake’s shield, hissing and smoking in the water. It steams in the rain, too hot to be real, a corona of shimmering air around its mangled body as it flares its torn wings and screams through broken fangs. Embers spill from its maw and extinguish in the mud below.

It is wrong. It breaks the world because this is not how dragons are supposed to look, supposed to be. Snake is somewhere else when he should be here, somewhere that is already lost, a ghost of memories long since past him. He is young and his uncle holds something in his arms, something faintly shimmering with heat, he beckons David closer because there’s no reason to be frightened, see-

The dragon screams, and the group dissipates, salt in water. Everyone is mixed up- the dragon makes a deep hissing noise, and Snake hears Mei Ling give an aborted scream, her horse rearing in fear as friend and foe alike tries desperately to escape. She is thrown from her horse, lands heavily in the mud, and Snake and Hal are driven back away from their group as Meryl manages- just barely- to scoop Mei Ling from the dirt.

“ _ Run! _ ” Snake screams across the field, through the howling rain and the screaming horses and the snarling dragon. He prays that somehow, they can hear him, and understand.

Then he turns and grabs Hal’s reins, and together, Snake and the king turn tail and flee into the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> legally i have to put dragons in this fic literally anywhere and everywhere. ALSO, first fight scene!!!


	6. Of Doves and Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dark Snake's past comes back to haunt him.

Hal bites his lip so hard he feels blood pool under his teeth. The rain lashes against his side, sharp and biting; his horse keeps pace with Snake through the tangled, dark wood.

He can still taste sulfur in his lungs from the dragon’s musk, cutting through the storm-smell and making him choke. Everything was  _ wrong _ \- how had they known? Who had they been? Hal had been so  _ careful _ . No one had known. No one could have possibly known they would be there, it was impossible, he had failed-

Hal barely notices when they finally skid to a halt in a slightly barer area, a recently fallen tree showing a patch of the rolling sky above. Snake is all practiced moves as he pulls the horses to the side and dismounts in one smooth move, throwing the reins over a branch and landing on the earth with a clink of metal. His eyes flash in the dark, armor slick and shining wet.

“Get off,” he hisses, and Hal obeys, because what else can he do? His legs are unsteady and he falls against Snake’s back, hands scrabbling at soaked armor. Finally he gives up and exhales, going weak and boneless on Snake, who mercifully doesn’t mention it.

They are silent. Hal can feel Snake breathing heavily under him, both of them desperately trying to catch their breaths. Somewhere, the dragon gives off a horrible, strident cry, and they both flinch.

“We have to go,” murmurs Snake. “We can’t- dragons can scent for miles even in the rain.”

“Meryl... Raiden...” Hal manages to scrape his thoughts together long enough to remember. “Mei... we can’t leave them behind.”

“If they have any sense in them, they’ll have run off too. They’re capable. They’ll make it.” He doesn’t look like he’ll be persuaded otherwise. “Right now, we need to get safe. And I- I know where to go.”

Snake pauses there, eyes suddenly unfocused. He looks somewhere far away, and Hal recognizes it- he saw the same look in his eyes not moments ago, when the dragon crashed through them. He’s seeing something that isn’t there.

It doesn’t take long for him to snap back. He grabs the reins from the tree and they begin to walk, though Hal’s veins are singing with fear and the desire to sprint whenever he hears anything that is not the storm. Snake takes the lead, Hal follows, and slowly the rain lashes down less and less, and his breathing becomes steadier, and the shadows of night replace the shadows of weather. 

The moon is almost shining through the clouds when Snake holds an arm out, halting their progress. Their foes have not made a sound in what seems like hours, and Hal’s adrenaline has been replaced by a dull, hollow exhaustion. He feels significantly drained, the weight of his stress and fear and biting failure eating away at him. Snake, too, seems stressed, something within him drawn taut. He is not comfortable being here.

“On foot from now,” he whispers. They tie their horses to a tree and continue, and Hal’s hand finds his so naturally that it takes him a moment to realize that they’re clutching hands like their lives depend on it. An anchor in the cold.

They continue together, between the moonlight that manages to fall through the canopy. Everything is edged in slick silver, moonlight falling on wet surfaces, and the biting cold of Hal’s already soaked skin is only made stronger by the nip of nighttime wind. It is a night of things that are not of men, and every shadow is roiling with the forms of beasts and faeries.

Snake notices first that they’re being followed.

He grips Hal’s hand tightly and suddenly draws him pressed against his side, drawing his sword with a slick  _ shing  _ to shine in the moonlight. He is incredibly tense, both of their bodyheat reduced by the cold and rain, and Hal feels the sudden urge to press closer, get warm, get safe. But they crouch there, and Hal has no idea what he’s waiting for, because he can only hear the normal sounds of the forest.

“What-“ Snake instantly untangles their hands to slap his over his mouth. 

“Sh.”

And Hal smells sulfur and heat again.

Something steps from the gloom across from them, as if on cue. A great head looms, air shimmering with heat, above them, one orange eye in the gloom. Hal’s brain goes white as the dragon pulls itself from the depths of the forest, massive and spiked and disconcertingly quiet, watching them with slitted eyes and smoke pouring from its flared nostrils. A leaf falls on Hal’s head, and it dissolves into ash when it hits.

But this is not the dragon he saw before, Hal realizes, when another form begins to pull out of the shadows below. The dragon is far too placid, its snout not caged, only one bright eye staring from the dark. It is a dragon, and it is not the same.

Underneath it is a man, and he steps into the moonlight, and Hal physically feels Snake tense up beside him.

“Hello, David.”

Snake makes an upset noise deep in his throat, and stands up straight, pulling Hal up with him. The man across from them has long blond hair, pulled back in a high tail on his head. His pale eyes almost glow, arms crossed, scowling in a mighty way. He seems vaguely familiar, in a way that Hal can’t quite place.

“Kaz.” Snake- David?- says, and there’s a note of grief in his voice so strong that Hal’s eyes flick from watching the dragon to just catch the look of pure pain on his face. “I-“

“What led you to think you were welcome here?” says the man, Kaz. “Haven’t you done enough?”

“I’m not asking for forgiveness, Kaz-“

“I should fucking hope not!”

“We just need somewhere to stay that’s safe! Just tonight- God, I feel that I can ask you this when the fucking king is here with me!”

Kaz’s gaze instantly switches to Hal, as does the dragon above him, and he feels very inadequate. He gives a small wave. Neither of them seem 

impressed.

“Listen, Kaz, we were attacked by a dragon. D.D.’s scent might be our only chance to hide.  _ Please. _ ”

Kaz’s gaze does not leave his face. He’s staring, stony and silent, and Hal almost feels like his pale eyes are reading him, seeing all his mistakes.

He lets the silence stretch on a long, long while. The dragon seems a little less stoic, and it leans down a little, its heated aura making the air around smell of fire. It moves into a patch of moonlight, and Hal sees that its left eye is covered with a large back eyepatch, an unusual fashion choice for a firey reptile. 

“...fine.” Kaz says, and snaps his fingers. The dragon ruffles its leathery wings and begins to walk, heading through the trees to a destination not yet visible, and Kaz walks by its side. He and Snake follow, and as they do, Hal slips his hand in Snake’s again without thinking. Snake grips it tight- a silent message of thanks. 

It doesn’t take long for a cabin to emerge from the trees, the trunks thinning into a clearing. Washed in moonlight, the tiny house is picturesque, glowing from the inside with comfortable light that makes Hal ache for warmth. A small patch of lavender scents the air from around the well nearby, and a suitable stack of firewood is in a pile beside an attached vegetable garden. The dragon delicately steps over said garden to curl up behind the back of the house, its tail poking around the side and beating the ground as Kaz unlocks the door.

Inside is blessedly warm and cozy, and even through Snake is almost hesitant, Hal is so cold that he rushes in almost as soon as Kaz has opened the door. A fire crackles under the mantle on one side of the room, and Hal gravitates to it instantly, holding his hands to the heat. Kaz sideyes him as Snake enters and closes the door behind him, seeming awkward. He unlocks a large window on the far side of the house and, much to Hal’s surprise, the dragon nudges its way inside, its heated aura negating any cold air from outside. It watches them with a bright, curious gaze.

“The king, David? I’m surprised that you were allowed back in the capital after what you did.”

“I don’t- I don’t live in the capital anymore.”

“Running away from your crimes.”

“ _ Kaz- _ ”

“It’s Iron Dove to you, David.”

_ Iron Dove-  _ Hal’s head snaps up. 

“Iron Dove?”

“The one and only, your Majesty.” Kaz replies, and Hal notices for the first time the dark metal plating of his left arm, shot through with plates illuminated by an internal fire. Iron Dove, once a knight under Hal’s father. Hal had almost forgotten him- he had fled three years ago, to the Blackwood with the dragon he raised.

“You’ve been gone for a very long time. Since the death of Poison Snake, right?”

Kaz snorts through his nose, grimacing in a truly pained snarl. “So you still believe that, huh? Didn’t have the spine to tell people the truth, David? Coward.”

David stares at the fire. He looks hollow. 

“I don’t understand.”

“Why don’t you ask that knight of yours? The legendary Dark Snake who didn’t even have the balls to tell people what he did.  _ Pitiful. _ ” Kaz spits, staring directly at David. 

Suddenly, what was a warm house becomes cold. Hal feels a chill down his spine as he looks at Snake, who seems to sense the eyes on him and mumbles something under his breath.

“...Snake?” 

“Your Majesty, don’t make me say it, please.” Snake whispers.

“Tell him, David,” Kaz snarls. “Tell him the  _ truth _ .”

David’s eyes are wide and empty as he stares into the fire. The silence stretches on long, too long, and Hal feels himself trembling.

“Poison Snake isn’t dead.”

Everything is cold. Everything is empty and Hal feels the air get punched out of his lungs immediately. 

“Wh...”

“The man burned in the square three years ago wasn’t Poison Snake, your Majesty.”

His blood runs cold. “Then who...?”

David closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The angles of his face are washed in orange light, and he looks unexpectedly old. 

“When my father and Ocelot took the capital three years ago, they called in me and my brother to dispatch him. They figured that, as his sons, we would know his tricks. And I also asked for another person to help me... Gray Fox.”

Even Kaz seems to unstiffen at that, eyes brightening, like this is something he hasn’t heard before. “It was a... mistake. The worst one I ever made. Fox was my right hand, my constant companion- he loved me, and I loved him. More than I had loved anyone before.”

“And he died. He died by my father’s hand, when we were ambushed heading for the throne room. I held him in my arms as he left me. And then the next thing I remember, I had killed a man who I thought was Poison Snake. But I was wrong again.”

David’s voice is choked up when he finally gathers the energy to speak again. “It was Venom Snake, the man who raised me and Eli, my brother, who saw him fall by my hand. He swore he would take his revenge, Ocelot taunted me, and both left me alone with what I had done. I left the capital a day later. I had lost my lover, my brother, and my real father in one night, all because of my own mistakes.”

“I’m not a hero, your Majesty.” His mouth quirks in a smile, but it doesn't even come close to reaching his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint again.”

Hal had been there, when they burned what he thought was Poison Snake. He remembers how the sparks had danced, how people had cheered, how he had breathed out because he and Emma could finally go back home. The crowds had cheered for Dark Snake, their hero, their savior. But he didn’t doubt for a second that David was telling the truth.

“My name is Hal.” he says, because it feels right. “I don’t- I didn’t know. But I know that you’re a good man, Sir Snake. Call me Hal.”

Snake’s eyes flick over to Hal, and for the first time since they’ve met, he feels... warm under them. His smile becomes sincere, if only for a moment. “I’m David.”

Kaz sighs. He looks different now, something resigned in his eyes. Pulling away from his dragon’s side, he crosses over to a small cabinet and gathers woolen blankets in his arms, flinging them to land on Hal and David’s backs.

“Get some rest,” he says. “You can stay the night.”

Hal smiles.

When he wakes up once during the night, he sees David and Kaz standing by the dragon’s window, Kaz’s hand on his shoulder. They are smiling, and Hal feels soft inside as he slips back into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many truths revealed this chapter


	7. Of Tracking and Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the journey continues.

When David wakes up, all tucked in blankets and warm, he’s a different person, if only for a second. He’s not Snake, he’s David, the little boy who looked up to the knights who raised him. It takes him a moment to get his bearings- the scent of D.D. is all over Kaz’s cabin, and it doesn’t help his confusion. He blinks his eyes open and, very briefly, his mind tells him that soon he’ll have to wake up Eli and help Venom with the stables.

Reality rushes back in almost painfully. His head snaps up and he shrugs off the blankets as he remembers last night. The king- Hal- knows the truth now. So does Kaz. Everything was laid bare, and somehow, he’s still here, warm and safe and alive.

Hal is still asleep next to him, piled under so many blankets that his skinny frame is barely visible. When he rests, he looks at peace, the weight of his kingdom finally off his too-slim shoulders, a weight David knows he could never take off him. David looks at him and something in his heart goes soft.  _ I know that you’re a good man, Sir Snake. _

It has been many long years since David has even tried to think about this, let alone admit it to anyone. Just considering Gray Fox makes him physically ache, an old wound that still burns to the touch. Thinking about Venom, about the look on Eli’s face, about the sneering words of Desert Ocelot- those hurt even more.

David squints as he turns his face towards the open window. Sunlight lances through, glancing off the rain-slick leaves, warming him. For the first time, David thinks about his lover, thinks about his father, and wonders if it wasn’t time to let them pass on peacefully.

Fox and Venom deserve their rest. Maybe David does too.

“You’re awake,” comes a rough voice from across the room. Kaz is up- of course he is- and he’s shouldering a wooden bucket. “Come help me get D.D.’s water. We’ll let His Majesty sleep a little while longer.”

David doesn’t say anything as he follows, taking another bucket from its spot on the floor. Outside, the early morning is gentle, full of the sound of rustling leaves and distant birdsong. Everything is still moist, the ground slightly squishy under David’s feet, and he closes his eyes as they draw up the water and feels the breeze light on his face.

D.D.’s barn is a big building, hidden in the trees behind the cabin, reminiscent of the custom stable he lived in when David was a child. He makes a soft noise as they enter, stretching out in a tangle of spines and wings and scales, his one eye winking bright gold. Kaz lets David pour the buckets into the long trough on one side of the wide room, the floor strewn with ashy straw. 

“Never thought you’d see this place,” Kaz says, as D.D. scoots towards him to nudge the man with his giant head. His eyes are trained on David the whole while. “Thought I might just get old and die out here, let D.D. go before I kicked the bucket.”

D.D. whines at that, his tail thumping on the ground, and Kaz chuckles and scratches his horns. Hesitantly, David approaches, the corona of heat that surrounds the dragon bringing tears to his eyes- but he knows from experience that touching a dragon does not burn.

He holds out a hand. Long ago- in a different lifetime- he would have felt no hesitation to grapple with D.D. and rub his scaly brow, sit below his thorny chin. The dragon had been like a brother to him, in a way. Did D.D. know what he had done? Did he forgive him?

A nose nudges at his palm and David looks up to see D.D. affectionately pushing into him, Kaz’s eyes soft. 

David has smiled more often in these two days than he has in three years.

When they return, Hal is awake, rubbing his eyes and groping around for his glasses. David takes pity on him and hands them over, watching the king blink sleepily as he puts them on. The morning sun catches his hair, gilding him in quicksilver, and once again something in David’s heart goes mushy at the sight.

“We have to get moving,” he says, pulling himself upright. The blankets fall in a tangled mess at his feet. “We don’t have much time...”

“I think you have enough time to tell me what led you here to my humble abode- and also to eat.” Kaz holds a bowl full of bread buns towards David and Hal, and for the first time, David notices the hunger low in his gut. He takes one eagerly, as does the king. 

Hal is clearly anxious about telling Kaz the whole truth, however, and swallows his bread down quickly. “Well, uh, we’re looking for the Witch of the Wood. We have... need of her services, so we’re searching for her familiars-“

“The Twin Serpents,” Kaz muses. “I’m familiar. Yes, I can track them down for you.”

“Wh-“ Hal sputters. “How?”

“He’s  _ Iron Dove _ ,” David supplies. “He was the best tracker the knights had ever seen, and probably ever will see. They said he could track a black bear in-“

“In a moonless night, yes,” Kaz finishes for him. “D.D. and I make a pretty good team nowadays. Besides, the Serpents have been nearby recently. Whatever dragon was chasing you clearly didn’t have your scent, or it would have been here by now. I’ll lead you to the Serpents and let you go on your mission- whatever that is. Important royal business, I’m sure.”

“Yes,” Hal says. “Important royal business.”

It doesn’t take long for them to be off. David slides on the pieces of armor he took off before he slept, and they set off into the early-morning forest. D.D. follows, clearly bouncy and cheerful, snapping at leaves that fall from the branches due to his heat. They retrieve their horses- who aren’t fond of D.D., but are brought anyway- and David thinks, not for the first time, of the rest of their party.

The last time he saw them, Meryl was clutching Mei Ling to her chest, Raiden panting, all three smeared with blood and with fear in their eyes. Logically, Snake knows they’re capable, and with any luck they escaped the dragon and fled to safety. 

He and Hal can keep going. It will be harder without them, but they have to believe that with the Witch’s magic, they will still be able to defeat Sahelanthropus. Just relying on David. Just him, sent in alone.

He can’t say he relishes the concept.

Watching Kaz work is mesmerizing. It’s almost like he blends into the environment, eyes watching every tiny detail, never missing a thing. D.D. falls into step beside him, the two moving in a comfortable rhythm. Hal watches with wide, awestruck eyes, and once again David is taken back momentarily to his past, when Kaz taught a too-eager boy how to shift on his feet so he wouldn’t be heard.

Hal sticks close to David’s side as they lead their horses on a little ways away from the dragon. Together, they trudge through bracken and ditches, up inclines and down short ravines. The birdsong of early morning peters out and is replaced by the humming of insects, everything slightly humid in the aftermath of the storm, and David feels sweat collect at the base of his neck and slip down his armor.

The sun is high in the sky and David’s feet are beginning to ache when D.D. snaps to a halt, every scale freezing mid-step. Kaz stops, too, and holds an arm in front of them, bringing the whole party to a halt. Hal visibly tenses as Kaz looks around, rubs his finger on a nearby tree, and finally pushes back some of the bracken in front of them to reveal a small open space between the trees.

Babbling sweetly, a tiny brook runs through the leaf litter, curling around trees and a pile of boulders baking in the sunlight. Draped over the stones are the massive, thick, coiled forms of what could be one serpent or two- if both of them are there, they’re tangled up too tightly to tell where one begins and another ends. The light catches their gleaming scales, the only indication that they’re alive being the twitching of a tail that lies off the edge of the boulder.

Hal exhales in relief, and begins to step forward, but Kaz’s arm stops him. “Wait. Something else is coming.”

It doesn’t take long for the sound of echoing destruction to come through the trees, the snapping of twigs under feet- or hooves. As one, the Serpents twitch and snap their heads up, each as thick around as a fallen tree. Their eyes gleam suspiciously, tongues flicking in the air.

From one side of the glade bursts a group of two horses, both looking rather worse for wear. They toss their heads and the Serpents rear back and hiss loudly at the party, already separating to flee-

David recognizes the three at the same moment that Hal does, they gasp sharply and surge forwards, their horses whinnying at the sudden movement. The Serpents are quickly untangling themselves to move, and they swing onto their steeds as quickly as they can, because the group has noticed them too.

It’s Meryl at the head, with Mei Ling tucked in front of her, dried blood still caught in her hair but her eyes bright and lively. Raiden is not far behind, grinning widely- they're alive! They’re all whole and alive and well- 

But before they can meet, D.D. surges out from the trees, officially scaring the Serpents off. They flee into the woods and, underneath his dragon, Kaz points wildly at their wake. “Go! Go! Meet up later!”

Meryl grins at them as she races past, and David follows eagerly, knowing that Hal and Raiden aren’t too far behind. He can’t keep a smile from creeping on his own face, but he looks back once- only once.

Kaz waves, D.D.’s head large behind him and grinning in that animalistic way that he does, and David almost waves back. Almost.

But then he has to spur on his horse and keep riding, away from his family and toward the Witch of the Wood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DEADASS NEARLY FORGOT TO UPLOAD TODAY IM SO SORRY


	8. Of Witches and Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Witch of the Wood solves and causes problems.

The Serpents are fast, but not fast enough for them to lose the trail. Their speed makes them loud, and Hal nearly gets hit in the face with more branches than he can count, but there’s something bright and alive in his heart. They’re alive! The rest of his party isn’t dead, they succeeded in tracking down the Witch, and soon they’ll get the enchantments they need to kill Sahelanthropus for good.

The concept of the golem really being gone forever still seems nigh-impossible to him, but when Mei Ling looks back and grins at him, and Raiden whoops as he overtakes them, it suddenly becomes just a little more real. The concept of finally having this nightmare be over is one of the few things that Hal has been able to cling to, one of the few things able to let him sleep at night recently.

Kaz’s house had been... nice. Hal bows low to his horse to avoid getting smacked and spurs her onwards, just able to discern the shapes of the Serpents far ahead. It had been warm and safe, and when he slipped into sleep there, the last thing he remembered was Snake’s- no,  _ David’s-  _ gentle smile.

He feels more energized than he has in months. It’s liberating- Hal had forgotten that he was even allowed to feel like this, like there’s a spirit in his bones. 

He races forwards, pulling ahead of David, who gives him a look- it’s not quite a smile, but his eyes sparkle and his face is open and warm, and Hal feels warm inside too at the sight. He laughs, and it’s carried away back into the trees.

Their destination is surprisingly not too far. The forest floor dips up unexpectedly, almost unnaturally, leading to a flat wall of craggy rock on the side of a small hill. It reminds Hal of a fairy mound as the Serpents dash towards it and disappear, as if they had never been. The trees growing on top reach scraggly roots out to dangle in midair, the brushed dirt in front of the wall dotted with tiny glittering specks and a few fragile bones.

It takes only moments for their party to come to a halt and the second they do, Meryl dismounts, bringing Mei Ling with her tenderly. Hal is breathing heavily from the race before and swings off his horse eagerly, already anticipating it when Meryl charges for him and grapples him in a part-hug, part-tackle.

“You idiot!” she exclaims, seriously ruffling his hair. David laughs out loud at that, approaching from the back. Raiden joins them enthusiastically, pale eyes wide with glee, and their reunion is a cheerful exchange of brushing shoulders and happy looks. If he had been a little more fragile, Hal would have cried.

“I have to say, I’m impressed,” David muses, giving Mei Ling a once-over. “How did you make it out?”

“We mostly just did what you told us to do- run,” Mei Ling replies. Her and Meryl haven’t left each others’ sides, and Hal catches sight of Meryl’s hand suspiciously low on her back. He chuckles. “You, however! Was that another dragon? And who was that man?”

“A friend,” David says, and though Raiden pesters him for more, he stays silent.

Suitably back together, Hal slips away from the group and wanders towards the wall, preemptively reaching for his pack. It is dark, shadowed in the overhang and by the slowly setting sun, but there’s enough light that Hal can see the smudges on the rock, the patterns written time and time again. He pulls a small notebook from the rolls of clothing and dry food packages in his pack and flips it open, looking through for a certain page.

“This is the place?” Raiden asks, peeking over his shoulder as the party follows him. Hal nods, focused on his book, until he finds the right section and fumbles in his pack for a small leather pouch.

“It is,” he mumbles, finding the pouch and stepping up to the wall. Studying the diagram he’s carefully written, he fishes a small stick of charcoal from the pouch and begins to sketch over the dusted-away lines, doing his best not to smudge. Once he’s finished, an intricate but scratchily drawn circle is drawn on the wall, about the size of Hal’s head.

He compares them one more time, then flicks the charcoal stick to the side, pouring out the rest of the pouch’s contents into his palm. Five nuggets of pure, shining gold rest in his hand, and Mei Ling gasps lightly at the sight. Hal has to admit, these hadn’t been easy to get- gold was rare enough as is, not to mention nuggets these size, but he had managed.

Searching out the shape of the circle with his free hand, Hal focuses on the weight of the gold, the glint of it in the low sunlight. Using his magic wasn’t easy, with what little of it he has, but whenever he does manage it, it’s like cold water flowing in his veins- simultaneously refreshing and scary. Soon enough, the nuggets are glowing, a faint sheen of blue across their surface. He hopes it’s enough.

There are five divots in the wall, at five points in the circle. Hal seeks them out with the pads of his fingers and presses the nuggets inside, completing the circle.

And then he steps back and waits.

It takes longer than he thought it would. The glow of the gold fades quickly, but the moment the sun dips below the horizon, suddenly everything flashes blue, hot and bright enough to blind. The group squints, covers their eyes with their arms, and when the light fades and Hal blinks away the spots in his vision, the wall is gone. In its place is a tunnel, leading down, with something glowing red deep in its core.

“Oh,” Raiden says quietly, looking down. “This  _ is  _ the place.”

There’s nothing else for them to do but follow the path. Hal leads the way- as much as he doesn’t want to- but David is close behind. Once they’re all inside, there’s another glow from behind, and the party looks back to see that the wall has returned. They are trapped.

They go down, and down, and down. Hal keeps his hand on one wall, mostly blind in the dark, trying to follow the ruby glow. It gets brighter slowly and slowly, and their footsteps echo and amplify in the tunnel. He loses track of time. Soon it seems that they’ve been walking for hours.

She’s waiting for them, at the bottom, when the tunnel finally falls away and the glow is all around them. The cave is low and rocky, with a wide but flat space taken up by niches in the rocks and glittering prisms that hang from the ceiling. Hal is taken aback by how startlingly  _ mundane  _ the space is- a thick rug is on the floor, there are desks tucked away in corners and books stacked up and open on the ground. But the more he looks, the more he notices things: the astrolabe spinning quietly on its own, the unreadable runes scribbled on the walls, the giant cauldron bubbling with glowing fluid.

The Witch of the Wood is before that very cauldron, lounging on a pile of pillows, the forms of her familiars twining over her legs and behind her head. When the party enters, they snap up and glare, tongues flicking, eyes shining in the ruby glow. She doesn’t stand, her thick hair flowing over her shoulder, a smile light on her face.

“Welcome,” she calls to them. Hal feels suddenly too dirty to be here, with her arms laden in silk that slides over itself and her body. “Good job finding me, good job.”

“Are you the Witch of the Wood?” Hal asks, and hopes his voice doesn’t shake. Now she stands, her pets following her every move, observing them from under heavy lids as she advances. Through she looks slightly flirtatious, she is also dripping with power- the whole room is. There’s something dangerous in the Witch’s eyes, past her beauty. 

“I am,” she replies, running her hand along one of the Serpents’ heads. When she brings her hand up, it is full of gold. “I appreciate the offering. You may all call me Naomi- it’s less of a mouthful than the Witch of the Wood, don’t you think?”

Hal manages to nod, somehow. She’s too close- he feels choked up with her presence so near. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see David stiffen beside him. Is he feeling the same way? 

“No one ever comes for no reason,” Naomi says, closing her hand around the nuggets. “What did you need me for?”

“Magic.”

She snorts. “Obviously.”

David steps forward, the line of his jaw set surprisingly harshly. He draws his sword and pulls his shield from his back, holding them out for her to see. “We are hunting the golem Sahelanthropus, and we need a weapon to defeat it.”

“Hmm.” She takes the sword and shield, runs her hand down the blade. “Yes, I think I can do that. Come, sit, make yourselves at home. This will take a little while.”

They’re all too tense to split apart evenly, but the Witch retreats to her cauldron. Mei Ling and Meryl seem content to stand in a dark corner, chatting quietly to each other, trading soft touches. Raiden occupies himself with the array of magical items scattered around the room, clearly incredibly curious. 

David and Hal, however, feel drawn toward the cauldron, where Naomi reclines once more, inspecting the liquid inside. The cauldron seems to be the source of the red light that pervades the room, and as Hal looks inside, the potion reminds him of the embers that spilled from the dragon’s snout just a few days prior. Naomi runs her hand down the flat of David’s sword once more, and standing up quickly, she dunks the entire blade in the liquid in one smooth movement, flecks popping up in bubbles and landing on the rim of the iron cauldron.

“So you want to watch me work,” Naomi hums as Hal draws closer, curious about her method. He’s never seen what she does before, used to more energy-based magics, but her attention on him makes him blanche for a moment. “I’m flattered, Your Majesty.”

“Ah, you knew,” Hal says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just interesting, that’s all. I’ve never seen this kind of magic before.”

“It’s ancient stuff, yes,” she replies, drawing closer. Her eyes glint in the light. “Things passed down from parent to child. Of course, if you ever wanted to stay a little longer, I could teach you a few things. I feel you might have a talent for it.”

Her hand is brushing him now, and Hal feels a bit like he’s been stuffed with cotton. Is the room this hot, or is it the cauldron? Is the glow that’s making him sweat?

With no preamble, Naomi draws the sword out of the fluid, the blade glowing cherry-red. Without looking, she holds it behind her, and one of the Serpents takes the blade between its jaws and the potion flows down its scales to pool on the floor. Next she takes the shield and repeats the gestures, but this time, Hal catches sight of David to the side when she plunges the shield in, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Suddenly the room is much less hot.

Naomi treats the sword and shield several more times in a similar fashion, commenting various things to Hal, to which he tries to respond in kind. It’s difficult. Snake doesn’t say a word, but he stares at the heart of the cauldron with a scowl that Hal had almost forgotten. His presence is large and looming, impassively stony, and Hal remembers what he was when he arrived at his cabin, too tall and too imposing to ever consider a mere mortal. 

Finally, she pulls the shield out one last time, and there’s a gleam to it that wasn’t quite there before. She takes the sword and the shield, and, finally acknowledging Snake, holds them out to him. They don’t glow red-hot anymore, but every so often the core of the blade will catch the light just so, and Hal can see a flame in its heart.

“I am... familiar with the sorts of magic such golems are made of,” she says, giving Hal a look he can’t read. “The Sword and Shield of Flameheart should protect you from its breath and allow you to pierce its molten heart. Wield both well.”

Snake takes them, and even though his eyes are shaded, the sight of him takes Hal’s breath away in a way it hasn’t before. He’s washed in crimson, and the sword gleams with a core of fire, and Hal wishes, just for a moment, that he could see him like this forever.

But then he would never see David again, and that thought is too much to bear.

Naomi’s smile is tight as the group gathers to behold Snake, in all his glory, his cold eyes. But Hal just feels lost.

“Lovely to work for you,” Naomi purrs. She’s too close. When did she get so close? Why did he let her? “Come back soon.”

Then she waves her hands once, twice, and the bright glow returns, and when Hal blinks his eyes open, they’re outside the wall, and the Witch’s cavern is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> snake get a cool sword


	9. Of Brothers and Insects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which past mistakes catch up with them.

Snake swings onto his horse and keeps his eyes resolutely on the treeline. Something in him is stiff and cold, and he doesn’t like it. He didn’t at  _ all  _ like the way that Naomi had looked at Hal, the glitter in her eyes, the way she pressed to his side. But who was he to say those sort of things? He isn’t Hal’s master, he doesn’t control him. Snake has no right to feel this way.

But he  _ does  _ feel this way. He tries to swallow it down, staring at the blade of his sword. It’s practically dripping with magic now, and he angles it just so it catches the light and the core of it glows. 

Hal comes up behind him. He knows, he can feel every inch between them. He forces himself to look back at him, to sheathe his sword. Hal bites his lip as he mounts, eyes trained on Snake, watching carefully.

“Where to now?” Snake asks. Something in Hal melts a little, a flicker of relief in those too-intense eyes, and he pulls his map out.

“The mountains to the North,” he replies, pointing at a mountain range that borders the side of the kingdom that isn’t consumed by either the sea or the Blackwood. There’s a large cross inked on a section where the mountains part. “Sahelanthropus was last seen here, heading inwards.”

“Then we don’t have any time to lose,” Meryl chimes in, pulling up next to them, Mei Ling riding in front of her. “Sahelanthropus could make it to the nearest town any day now. By my measures, that’ll take us another three days to get near it. I just hope-“

“I know,” Hal interrupts. He rolls up the map again, and that steel- so hidden, but so strong- is back in his gaze. “That’s all we can do.”

They ride through the night. There’s an added sense of urgency now, with the first leg of their journey done. Snake has the weapon he needs, the destruction if the golem is in sight, and for the first time, David wonders what’ll happen to him when it’s over.

The thought stays with him as they ride harder than they ever have before. His thighs begin to ache on the second day- they had only stopped for a couple of hours to rest and eat before continuing on, and it strikes David that he’s essentially going in blind. He’s never fought anything like Sahelanthropus before, not even back when he was young and fresh and fought buoyed by his father’s prestige. This is a monster beyond anything any of them can truly understand; it is enormous and unknowable. He feels the heavy weight of the Flameheart Sword on his back and for a moment it is too much to carry.

They see Sahelanthropus on the third day, just as Meryl said they would. The woods fall behind them, tangled trees giving way to the plainlands of foothills and the distant teeth of mountains edging the horizon. The soil here is too rough for farming, and the grasses grow tall and wild, their stems tickling the legs of their exhausted steeds. David pulls alongside Hal, and his eyes are bright and intense, intent on his mission. He wants to pull the tangled silver hair from his head, soothe the fire in his eyes, and the emotion chokes him, so he continues on, training his eyes on the jagged sky.

Sahelanthropus is huge. They see it as the sun is setting, lancing orange light between the gaps in crags to lie flat on the plains. There’s a small gap in the mountains, and from there it emerges, taller than anything David’s ever seen before. Its metallic hide gleams silver and rust and tarnished black, and in between the metal it glows from within, bubbling red like the heart of a volcano. It would almost look like a man, if a man had the maw of a monster, had fangs and claws and massive feet of pure iron. Even looking at it from here makes David feel heat on his tongue, heavy and tasting of sulfur.

It plods onwards, heavy feet crushing the earth beneath it with shuddering steps. David notices that he’s gone still, his horse breathing heavily underneath him, and the rest of his party halts too, staring up at the monster. Hal is beside him, and David turns his head to see the king’s face washed in the orange light of sunset, his eyes wide in horror.

_ I can’t fight this, _ is the only thought that’s able to ring through David’s head before he hears someone scream.

They are not alone. People suddenly charge at them from everywhere, wild-eyed steeds running circles around them, trapping the five of them in a tight circle. David tenses as he takes in the motley crew- mismatched weaponry and armor, untrained horses. They stink of brimstone and unwashed bodies, and his eyes widen as he realizes that they’re the gang from before. They’re the gang that ambushed them in the Blackwood- Foxhound.

He rides close to Hal, their steeds caught in a pacing circle, throwing their heads and flashing teeth and the whites of eyes. Sahelanthropus walks on in the distance, smoke emanating from the cracks in its armor, crushing the earth before it. The air is heavy, like the weight before a storm.

Though they’re effectively caged, none of Foxhound attacks. If one of them strikes out, they’re not afraid to poke back with their blades, but they do not attack outright. One of them catches sight of David’s breastplate, and whispers erupt:

“ _ Is that Dark Snake? _ ”

“ _ It is, it is, it is- _ ”

“ _Stick him!_ _Tear him to shreds!_ ”

“ _ No, no- tell the boss- _ ”

It’s that one that gets picked up, echoed throughout the group. They parrot it throughout themselves, and they’re forced inwards further, their steeds almost side-to-side. David catches glimpses of Raiden’s terrified eyes, the determined but faltering glare of Meryl, Hal’s bowed head and the hidden, defiant sparks that dance over Mei Ling’s knuckles. 

The chattering falls silent, suddenly, and Snake nearly chokes on the absence of sound. Tension’s long fingers wrap around his throat as the group begins to part, slowly, shuffling aside to make room for one horse- the boss. Their boss.

“What do we have here?”

The man on the horse is tall, strong, his body cut like a warrior’s and his face twisted in an imperious sneer. Straw-blonde hair spills just below his shoulders, tangled in the plains wind, and his eyes are a cold blue, twinkling with malice in their familiar shade. 

Next to him, a tall, lanky man floats a few feet above the ground, eyes unnaturally pale and hair a vibrant, curly red. Heavy runes glow around his neck, drawn in thick slashes of black, and most of his haggard face is covered by a hideous mask, steel jaws outfitted with razor-sharp fangs just covering his mouth and nose.

Snake knows who he’s looking at. He knows exactly who the man is, because he has his exact same face.

“Eli,” he growls. Eli’s sneer only widens, showing off pointed teeth, a wicked grin glinting with malice. He trots closer, and Snake is sure that he wants to rip into him, with the murderous tint in Eli’s eyes. 

“I thought you’d gone and died in the Blackwood somewhere,” Eli taunts, his voice high and mocking. “Buried yourself under the weight of your own cowardice.”

Snake stays silent. He can feel the eyes of Meryl, Mei Ling and Raiden on his back, confused and hurt. Only Hal knows the truth. 

Eli paces in front of them, investigating them thoroughly. The floating man by his side watches with a gaze like a ghost’s, his metallic fangs reflecting the orange of the sky. Around them, the mercenaries murmur amongst themselves, filthy words and gleaming weapons poking into their space. 

“Who’s this?” Eli’s blade reaches out suddenly, a wicked-looking blade reaching under Hal’s chin to push him up. Once his face was visible, throat trembling under the sword pointed at it, Eli’s eyes widen, a momentary shock registering on his face.

“Prince Hal?” he says, then his eyes tighten. “No- you must be  _ King  _ Hal by now.”

There’s this steel to Hal, a hidden thing that always manages to surprise Snake when it shows itself. When he stares Eli directly in the eyes, that steel is in full force, strong and piercing. “I am.”

Foxhound erupts in yet more whispers- murmurs of bounties, of rebellion, of what they could do to debase and defile a king. Eli’s blade drifts down, angled at Hal’s shoulder. His eyes train back on Snake, accusatory, searing. “So you’ve even managed to lie to the king, brother?”

Raiden gasps softly behind them, and Eli picks up on it, because of course he does. “How much do these people know, I wonder? How much have you lied to them to convince them to follow you to their deaths?”

“I never lied, Eli,” Snake manages to finally say, his voice returning sharply, painfully. “I never-“

“How much do they  _ know _ ,” Eli snarls, and there’s madness in his gaze. For a second, David’s heart aches for his younger brother, the boy he grew up alongside, his best friend. That boy is dead. David killed him three years ago, and now only Eli remains.

“Let us through,” Snake demands. “We’re here to kill Sahelanthropus. We have no quarrel with you, White Snake.”

“Using titles now? Quaint.” Eli replies. His sword stays, steady, angled at Hal. “You know, me and my men have been following that beast for some time now. If you get too close it strikes, but it makes for good protection. Maybe it can be useful to me- a handy lever for more power, don’t you think, Mantis?”

The floating man- his name must be Mantis- nods. He positively reeks of power, dark and dangerous, in a way that Mei Ling’s sharp sparks do not. The air is thick and heavy around them, the world tasting like danger, like a threat not quite sprung yet. Snake tries to see where it’ll come from, tries to pinpoint the source before it hits, but he’s just too late.

A quick push of his wrist and Eli’s sunk his sword into Hal’s shoulder, punching a gasp out of him as he slides it out just as quickly. A corona of red follows the blade, arcing crimson in the air, spattering the earth with Hal’s lifeblood as he gapes like a fish, already beginning to faint. 

The world explodes and Snake feels detached from it all. Logically, he knows that the mercenaries have begun to attack. He knows that Mei Ling has cast some sort of bubble around them, protecting them all momentarily. He knows that Meryl and Raiden have their blades drawn, that horses are screaming, that his once-brother is just as strident not too far away, but all Snake can see is Hal. His skin is dangerously pale, his eyes wide and shell-shocked, blood already staining his shirt carmine.

Snake wastes no time. He catches Hal as he topples to the side, grabbing his horses’ reins as he pulls the king onto his own saddle. He screams something about running, and then they’re off, the bubble popped and their foes rushing in. Hal’s hair is tangled silver on Snake’s shoulder, he leans forwards and sees that his chainmail is smeared with gore. Distantly, in the rush of his own ears and the pounding of hooves and the distant destruction of Sahelanthropus, David swears he can hear Eli laughing, constant and maniacal, no matter how far he goes.

They run away, back into the Blackwood, and Hal’s eyes flutter closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you listen real close you can hear me cackling. the Big Scene approaches....


	10. Of Promises and Solitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a knight makes his king a promise.

_“You are a stupid boy, aren’t you, Hal?”_

_Hal’s knees are quaking. He can barely keep his grip on the polished metal before him, heat creeping up the surface, turning it glowing cherry red. It brushes the pads of his fingers and, involuntarily, he flinches, dropping it on the floor with a clatter. It cools instantly, red fading to steel._

_“Disappointing,” Huey sneers across from him. He turns away, eyes sharp, face twisted into a frown. Hal knows he’s always looked like his father; it haunts him, sometimes, the concept of people looking at him and seeing that same unabashed disgust. “Did I tell you you could drop it?”_

_“I- It’s too hot, for- for me to hold, Father-”_

_“Did I_ tell you _you could_ drop it _, Hal!” he snaps, and Hal closes his eyes._

_“No, Father.”_

_“That’s right.” Huey’s voice is dripping with contempt. “If you can’t deal with this heat, how will you be able to call fire, to form a weapon to keep your people in line? How will you follow in my footsteps?!”_

_Inside, Hal isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to call fire, or ever be able to follow him. Even deeper, he desperately doesn’t want to. He’s seen the burns on Huey’s hands, the torn and scarred skin, and the blisters that form on his own hands when he tries that take days to fade. No, Hal doesn’t want to be his sort of king._

_But what choice does he have?_

_Huey leans down, grabs the rod from the floor. It begins to glow at the tip, yellow to red, a painful brand that he doesn’t even seem to notice. He holds the cool end out to Hal._

_“We’ll try again,” Huey says. “And this time, you_ won’t _disappoint me."_

* * *

 When Hal wakes, his mouth is full of blood. He chokes, the world coming back to him in bits and pieces- the taste of iron, the feeling of movement, the screaming of people he does not know far behind him. He coughs, and fluid dribbles over his teeth.

He looks up, the action almost dizzying, and sees Snake, eyes hard, brow furrowed. He whimpers at the sight- where was David? Where was his smile? He tries to reach up to touch him, but he’s too far away.

Snake looks down and his eyes widen at seeing him awake. “Hal!”

Hal’s mouth quirks in a smile, or at least, he thinks it does. He can’t seem to feel his skin properly, pieces of him fading away at his fingertips.

David’s eyes flick back up to the horizon. He leans in, metal scraping against metal, his chainmail clinking against itself in a buzzing cacophony. He’s curled tightly around Hal, spurring his horse onwards, away from those distant voices, from the heavy, thundering steps of something too large to exist.

“Stay awake, Hal,” he says, voice tearing into papery shreds on the wind. “Stay with me. Please.”

Safe. David feels safe, and Hal is not scared.

He closes his eyes and falls inside himself.

* * *

  _The people dance in front of him, they dance and cheer, backlit by the orange, crackling flames. Their bodies twist and contort their shadows on walls. The world is painted black and yellow with the contorted forms of merriment and joy._

_Hal stands above them all. Emma is shaking a little in his arms, standing and watching the party, the two having barely separated since the coup began. The night is bittercold and tastes like woodsmoke, and he can feel a headache building behind his eyes._

_Two days ago, Poison Snake had taken the castle by force. Hal had been woken in the night by shaking hands and worried faces, and he and Emma were spirited out of the castle, hidden not too far. Two days of worried looks, of constant hiding. Hal had cried- he didn’t know what else to do. He hadn’t let anybody see. The tears made his cheeks salty and his eyes sting, but he had found a corner and only let them flow there._

_Huey had not been rescued._

_Then, finally, just hours before: safety. Salvation. They had sent in Poison Snake’s sons- Dark and White Snake- and they had emerged with his corpse. Hal knew the two men, from passing glances, mostly. Twins; the strongest knights in the kingdom, father-killers. Huey was alive._

_So they went home. The king did not speak- no one wanted him to. It seemed that soon, he would be quietly replaced by his son. No one wanted a king who let invaders into his own home; such a king would surely let invaders into the country, too. Hal’s hands shook and he pulled Emma closer, mind dancing with the feeling of the heavy weight of a crown._

_They burned Poison Snake’s body in the market square, flinging him on a pyre, lifeless, to burn away into ash. The twin Snakes were nowhere to be seen. A once-hero lay ablaze tonight, the people singing praises for his death. They had turned on him so quickly- tore down his pedestal and tore him to shreds too. Hal had grown up hearing about the Dozen-Year War, the slaying of the Beast of the Great Divide, all tales where Poison Snake had brought glory to himself and the kingdom. Those stories lay forgotten and fallow now._

_Hal closes his eyes and breathes in the death-smoke. It tears at the back of his throat with angry claws, heavy and grieving for someone who shouldn’t have died, someone whose story was going unsaid._

_In the distance, something cries- too big to be a wolf, too big to be a bear. It cries, and the cry brings the hint of sulfur to drift up to the heavens._

* * *

The next time Hal wakes, it’s with a violent start. He convulses as his brain shocks him back into consciousness, every sensation flooding back into his body in one sharp hit. His chest is bare, and it smarts in the cold night air, but it hurts nowhere near as badly as the agony that erupts near his neck when he twitches awake. He screams.

“Hal!” comes a voice from above, and the tears clear from Hal’s eyes just enough to see the worried face of Meryl over him, brow furrowed and bags heavy under her eyes. She looks washed-out, a portrait left in darkness too long. 

There’s hands on his arm, and he looks over to see Mei Ling’s trail-worn hands resting on the bloodstained bandages that are securely on his skin. The delicate runes inscribed into her wrists glow with a milky light, too bright for him to look at for long. Her touch smarts, but he bites back a groan anyway. 

They’re somewhere in the outskirts of the Blackwood, he thinks, as the wind rustles in leaves high above. He can feel a cushion made of his cloak and leaf-litter underneath him, clearly a makeshift job. He mumbles as Meryl calls his name again, hesitant to touch him but clearly panicked, her voice abruptly cutting off as something heavy and clanking with armor walks nearby.

“Hal.” He knows that voice, too- that’s Snake, crouching down by his side, placing his hand inches away from his cheek. “Hal, stay awake. Don’t close your eyes.”

Meryl looks furious at him, for reasons he can’t decipher right now, but the sight of David makes Hal unstiffen, in some deep way. He smiles, and it hurts. “Trying.”

“He’s stable,” Mei Ling says softly, pulling her hands away. “He’ll live. I did what I could, but wounds as deep as that can’t be healed that quickly. You have to work from the outside up, reknitting tissue, reconstructing bone- it’s not a fast job. You’re just lucky it didn’t cut any major arteries, Hal.”

“M’ glad,” he rasps. His voice is raw, and scrapes at his own throat painfully. Seemingly satisfied with the diagnosis, Meryl stands up fiercely, hands balled into fists. David flinches and steps back at her raw fury, and she glares mightily, teeth bared.

“You,” she punctuates with a tap on his breastplate, “have some explaining to do. _Now._ ”

David’s eyes widen. He looks trapped, tensing up, faced with his secrets laid bare once more. Hal is about to interject, to claim his innocence, when they are all interrupted by Raiden pushing through the brush, pale hair mussed and face panicked.

“I scouted nearby Sahelanthropus,” he wheezes, breathing heavily. “It’s heading for a town. It’ll get there before sunrise, and White Snake- er. He’s following.”

“We have to go,” Snake says, face hard. He begins to walk towards Raiden, but before he can, Meryl’s hand darts out and catches his shoulder. It’s the first time she’s touched him so brazenly, no longer under her faint haze of hero-worship that she’s brought along with her. Now Vixen stares him down with contempt, with betrayal.

“We’re not going _anywhere_ until I get some answers!” Her voice is brushing the edge of screaming. Hal feels Mei Ling’s hands on him again, and she pulls his shirt to where he can easily grab it. The tension is choking as Snake looks down at Meryl, face unreadable, the air building to a tipping point.

“When the golem is dead,” he says finally, “then I’ll tell you the truth. Until then, I need you with me.”

Meryl closes her eyes. “I can’t- I can’t trust you without the truth, Sir Snake.”

“David.” he says, and Hal sees it for what it is- an offering. An olive branch. “My name is David.”

She nods, but says nothing more. Hal feels the soft pull of sleep calling him again, and his eyes begin to flutter closed, but then he hears Snake once more:

“Raiden, stay here and make sure Hal is safe. Vixen, Mei Ling, with me. We don’t have much time.” They respond, trekking off to where Raiden has probably hidden the horses, whispering to each other.

Hal sits up bolt-straight, cold running long fingers down his spine. He isn’t quite able to ignore the pain of his wounded shoulder and gasps openly, wheezing like a beached fish. Snake’s attention is on him instantly, and he kneels, catching him by his opposite side and looking at him with unexpected softness in his eyes.

“You need to rest,” David says softly. 

“N- no, no!” Hal protests, trying to keep himself upright even though his vision is beginning to swim. “You can’t go on your own. I have- have to come-“

“You’re in no condition to fight,” David’s smile is kind, but almost hurtful. Panic bubbles at the corners of Hal’s eyes and he loses his balance, falling back onto the thin palet below. He can’t- he has to come, to fix his mistakes, repair what he’s done wrong! He can’t let this stop him when he’s so close-!

He can just see David’s face from where he’s lying, and there’s something deep there, something he can’t put into words- which is perhaps why he’s so surprised when David reaches out and gently places his gauntleted hand on Hal’s cheek, tender and open. The metal is cold, but Hal can’t tear his eyes away from his, tears threatening as they burn behind his lids. He feels so weak, so helpless, but in that moment he’s mesmerized by this so very small connection.

“Hal,” David whispers, and he knows this is just for him to hear. “I will kill Sahelanthropus for you, and bring you peace. This I swear on my sword and my father’s grave.”

He’s not speaking of Poison Snake. They both know it, and as he stands and straightens his armor, the tears bubble over. Hal cries, and David leaves, because he has to. Raiden comes over as Snake’s tall, perfect form disappears into the brush, but he can’t do anything. Hal curls in on himself and just feels hollow, lost. Once again he couldn’t do anything. Once again he was useless.

He hears hooves gallop away and, in the distance, the screaming of a monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT. CHAPTER. I'M SO EXCITEDDDDD  
> also sorry to y'all who were looking forward to NOT seeing huey. sowwy.


	11. Of Battles and Golems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the golem is fought.

Snake leans forward on his horse, heart pounding in his throat. It is the time of year where the sunsets are long, and the sun lays in a thick, golden puddle on the horizon, the stars poking through the curtain of blue. The Blackwood falls back quickly behind him, tangled branches giving way to the pebbly plains of the mountains’ foothills.

Out of the corner of his eye, Snake can see Meryl and Mei Ling, on either side. Meryl’s sword is drawn, Mei Ling’s knuckles sparking, both of them squinting against the wind and just as determined as he feels. He spurs his steed onwards, reaching behind him to draw the Sword of Flameheart from its sheath. In the dark, it visibly glows, leaving a trail behind him in the inky twilight.

He can’t get the memory of Hal’s body in his arms away from him. He had been convinced, for a while, that he was dying- his life slipping away as the blood pooled over Snake’s gauntlets and stained the metal crimson. The mere concept of Hal dying makes something inside of David cry out in pain, a deep, heartfelt break. But he’s not dying. He’s alive, he’ll live, and now David has to kill the beast.

_For him,_ he thinks, as the top edge of Sahelanthropus appears on the horizon. _I’ll do it for him._

Sahelanthropus is just as monstrous as it was before, just as unnatural. It sears the air with heat, and the clusters around its feet soon reveal themselves to be Foxhound, running several feet away from the beast. In a way, it’s almost like a pack of wolves; following their lead to the hunt.

Meryl and Mei Ling draw up nearby as they get closer, watching him carefully. They need his instruction, and he gives it: “Distract them. Make me an opening so I can get to the golem.”

They nod, quick and sharp, and as the sun sinks fully behind the mountains, they attack.

Mei Ling is the first to charge, her hands trailing lightning bolts, immediately incapacitating the hordes that stream towards her bright lights. Of course, it’s never that easy. Mantis rises from the crowd, mask gleaming and radiating a dark glow, and retaliates with tendrils of something curling and inky black. She catches it just before it hits, but it flings her back a few feet, her horse screaming in pain.

Snake ignores it and rides on, Meryl quickly splitting off to sow more dissent in the ranks. Her sword flashes in the dark, and every time it does, a man wails. She’s a firey demon in the twilight, and soon she’s away from him, a whirling spirit of fury.

As the group splits, drawn by their simultaneous attack, Snake sees a small gap begin to appear in the crowd, an opening to the legs of the golem. He makes a break for it, the blade of his sword searing into the flesh of a horse he brushes by. The beast rears and throws its rider, who topples into the pebbled dirt below. Snake thinks he sees the brief flash of him trampled under the hooves of his allies before he moves on, going as fast as he can towards Sahelanthropus.

A flash at the corner of his eye, and Snake brings up his sword just in time to catch the edge of a blade on the Flameheart. The sharp eyes of Eli blaze in front of him, and their swords scrape painfully against each other before the tides of battle pull them away.

“Come back to face your fate, David?!” Eli screams, over the clanging of metal and the hum of magic. “Come to kill the golem, you mud-eating coward?!”

“Eli!” His voice is raw and painful, blistering in the heat from Sahelanthropus. “Do you even know what it is you’re following?!”

“Do _you_ know what it is you’re challenging?” Eli retorts. “I can use it, David. I can find whatever magic I need, I can bring him _back!_ ”

It strikes David, then, as their swords clash once more and the blood still staining Eli’s blade sears up in smoke when it meets the Flameheart. The world smells of sulfur and suffering.

David is barely able to comprehend what Eli said as they fight. Everything becomes movement- the swing of his blade, the chaos around them, the flashes of energy from the magic-users. Snake catches Eli’s blade on his shield and it glances off with a loud sound, Eli striking back as fast as he can. David is getting pushed back, slowly but surely, trapped in a back-and-forth as his brother tries his best to kill him.

One of the strikes hits the shield a little too hard, and Snake slides backwards, dangerously close to falling off his horse. He feels his foot slip, and prepares to land safely on the ground, but as he falls and Eli readies to hit his neck, something knocks him off.

Meryl charges at Eli, their horses and armor clanging together as she fiercely drives him back, hooves skidding in the dirt. He catches her eye as she careens past- all firey and fueled by bubbling anger. Though he knows the rage is directed at him deep down, he’s nonetheless impressed by her bravery. Snake lands on the ground and takes the chance that she’s given him, immediately sprinting into the no-man’s-land that surrounds Sahelanthropus.

He isn’t sure what he expects, knowing that the golem strikes within a certain area. Snake is already on edge, full of adrenaline with his heart pumping powerfully in his chest- and he knows that he has to, above all costs, kill Sahelanthropus. This entire time, the golem has been rumbling along, utterly oblivious to the battle raging around it. Part of him believes that it’ll stay that way.

When he gets close to it, however, everything changes. Up until that point, Sahelanthropus had been a massive, plodding beast, set on a predetermined course, unstopped and unfettered by its environment. The moment Snake is there, it unexpectedly turns its massive head, and suddenly it’s crouching before him, all scraping metal and huge claws.

Sahelanthropus opens its maw and screams, and the battle shifts.

Snake can feel his skin burning at the edges as the beast rears up again, the pit of fire in its jaws glowing brighter. Around them, people scatter to avoid the lashing of its long tail, the fight now split in two: the race to escape the golem, and Snake’s goal of plunging his sword through its core. The world is lit eerily orange, the fires of hell leaching through the metal plating of Sahelanthropus’ hide.

Sahelanthropus’ mouth suddenly begins to glow brighter, and Snake manages to pull out his shield moments before the golem leans down again and spits a torrent of fire at him. He’s sure that if he had any other shield, it would have burned to ashes in half a second, but behind this one, the heat skirts around him, licks of flame dancing around the edges. When it draws back, Snake wastes no time, reaching for the chain hooked on his side.

His world is instinct now, instinct and movement. Snake avoids striking talons and manages to keep his footing when the ground rumbles with its footsteps, the screaming ringing in his ears, a horrifying cry that leaves him rattled. The earth becomes torn and ruined where they fight, massive gashes ripped through the dirt and flames licking over the sparse grasslands. Foxhound and Snake’s allies are still tangled together, alternately fighting each other and avoiding Sahelanthropus’ strikes.

Snake readies his swinging arm and while the golem rears up for another attack, he throws the hook. It grapples onto the edge of one of its plates, and Sahelanthropus screeches in displeasure as Snake begins to climb up, one-handed, brandishing the Sword of Flameheart and ignoring the intensifying heat as he goes.

The battle is between his grip and the golem now, and Sahelanthropus rears and bucks, thrashing wildly in its attempts to throw him off. Snake’s head is ringing wildly; he entirely ignores the increasing discomfort and faint heated glow of the chain he’s climbing. All he can think of is Hal’s body in his arms, weak and dying.

Wild strikes outwards have fully scattered the fighters outside, and every time Sahelanthropus tries to buck him off, it comes with its own accompaniment of screams. It’s at one particularly loud cry of these that makes Snake take his eyes off of the golem, just for a second. Was Meryl amongst the screaming? Mei Ling? Or had they already taken a sword to the gut, a hit of magic to the head? Were his friends already dead in the soot-coated dirt below?

It’s only because he looks out that Snake sees it- a lone rider, galloping _towards_ the golem, not away from it. There’s a part in the bodies that allow him through, and even though Snake’s vision is spotty from the glow of the golem, head ringing from its screams, he knows who it is immediately.

Hal is riding in, low on his horse, determined to break through. He is alive and here, and for a brief second Snake is filled with an intense, overwhelming affection, seeing him like this; that lasts only seconds before it is replaced with fear.

Those seconds are all that Sahelanthropus needs. With a particularly powerful buck of its plated shoulders, the hook slips loose, and Snake is flung to the ground so fast he can’t even perceive the time he spent falling. The moment he hits the earth there’s a sickening crack, and something in his torso screams in a pain so intense his vision goes white. 

When it returns, it is replaced by the hideous maw of Sahelanthropus over him, insides burning white and deadly. His sword has slid too far for him to reach, as has his shield, and Snake is only able to regret that he’s unable to move as he prepares to be torched alive.

But before the flames, before the heat and death, something rears above him- flashing hooves, a frothing horse, its rider holding up his hand like he has no fear of the monster he faces.

Hal challenges the golem above David, and screams, “ _Stop!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHHHH MYGOD. i have been waiting to publish this chapter literally since i started writing this.  
> i feel it's very important for you all to know that this chapter was choreographed and written to 'i need a hero' from shrek 2.


	12. Of Victories and Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which secrets are revealed and things are won.

And, creaking, the fire at its core spitting embers, Sahelanthropus scrapes to a halt.

Hal pants in the face of its oppressive heat, his heart pounding in his throat, the palm of his hand already beginning to blister. He’s sure that the bandaging on his shoulder has torn, and the warmth running down his arm is blood, but the adrenaline is making his head spin. The world is silent around him, darkness washed in orange, the whole universe holding as still as the golem he commands.

And then there’s a groan from below, and it all snaps back into place.  _ Snake. _

He can feel the eyes of Foxhound on him as he awkwardly scrambles off his horse, landing harshly on the dirt, every bone in his body aching- but he couldn’t care less. He falls to his knees on the ground, grasping David’s chest, feeling for his breath. He’s alive, irrevocably alive, and Hal feels a sob coming on as he coughs under him.

“David,” he chokes out. “David, oh god.”

“Hal...?” he mumbles. Hal collects his head into his lap, the tears already threatening to spill at the corners of his eyes. 

“I couldn’t let you die without me,” he manages to say. David looks so unexpectedly soft, and he reaches up to brush his hand against Hal’s jaw, barely making it there, but the gesture is what draws the crying out. The pain begins to feel again, but so does the sensation of David’s head in his lap, the weight and warmth of his body, and he cries because despite everything, they’re both alive.

Around them, Foxhound is confused, mercenaries looking off-kilter at each other, leaderless- until Mantis rises from the crowd, holding the limp body of White Snake in his bony arms. He looks even more demonic in the low light, but he’s holding White Snake unexpectedly tenderly, keeping him safe. 

“This isn’t over,” his voice rasps across the battlefield, across the torn earth and the crackling flames. “Disband. I’ll return for you, Dark Snake, you and the king, and so will Snake.”

And he’s gone, somehow melting away into the darkness, and Foxhound dissipates with him. As the mercenaries disappear into the night, there’s only two figures left: Meryl, clutching her side, and Mei Ling, a burn mark seared into her arm. They’re horseless, leaning heavily on each other, Meryl’s sword chipped. Hal sees a mirror in them- they’re all so tired, so broken, and he hasn’t told them the truth.

His glasses are smudgy, but he can’t seem to take his hands off of David to rectify it. Their allies approach, slowly, coalescing together with their wounds aching and Sahelanthropus still and waiting behind them. The whole world seems so quiet now, unspooling itself, fractured pieces coming to rest. Meryl kneels by David’s side, Mei Ling following, her knees giving out so she falls on her butt to breathe heavily, closing her eyes.

For a moment, they stay like that, framed in dying wildfires and volcanic glow, recollecting themselves as the world rights on its axis. It’s Meryl who breaks the silence, looking over the battle, the rank scent of dying bodies and blood smeared with ash.

“You know,” she says, her voice raspy. “I think I’m tired of people not telling me the truth.”

Hal sighs. He knew this was coming. David looks up at him tiredly, but he can feel him nod in agreement under his fingers. He couldn’t keep this under his skin any longer.

“I could have stopped Sahelanthropus,” he murmurs. “I could have- no. I could have stopped it, but I would have lost... I would have lost everything. I’m so sorry.”

“From the beginning.” It’s the first time David’s spoken since he said Hal’s name, but he says it now, eyes closed, hand coming up to rest on Hal’s. “Hal. Tell us from the beginning.”

He nods. It’s the least he can do.

“My father- my father made Sahelanthropus,” he begins, hoping the tremor in his voice isn’t too noticeable. “He was obsessed with the magic of it, of keeping the people fearful. He made it when I was a child, with the intention of using me as a conduit to make it more powerful. Thank god, my mother managed to protect me until I was too big to fit inside.”

“But then the years passed, and I became king. For a while I thought my father was powerless, he couldn’t do anything to me anymore. And then- a few months ago, my mothers came to me, and they had something to give me. A friend of theirs had passed away, and left her child behind, and they knew I was lonely.”

Despite everything, thinking about her still brings a small smile to Hal’s face. “My daughter, my little Sunny. She was wonderful, perfect. I loved her, and she loved me, and we were happy. At least, until  _ he _ found out about her.”

“I don’t know how my father found out about Sunny, but he did, and the moment he did so, he set Sahelanthropus loose from its cage in the mountains. He told me that if I didn’t give Sunny up to be in the golem, he’d let it run free, to wreak havoc on my kingdom. I couldn’t let my people be killed- but I couldn’t let my daughter be tortured.”

“So I did this. I sent Sunny away, sought out Dark Snake, and gathered those I trusted. I hoped that, if I needed to, I could still control Sahelanthropus from outside. It was always supposed to be me in there, after all.”

He looks back at the crouching behemoth, watching them with no eyes, glowing and monstrous. “I guess I was right.”

His voice peters out, and he realizes that David isn’t prone on his lap any longer. He’s pushing himself up on weak arms, and jolted out of his memories, he rushes to help him, Meryl following suit. They pull him up carefully, and he leans on Meryl when he’s done, all of them still watching Hal with something their eyes. Meryl and Mei Ling have pity. But in David’s... is something else. Something deeper.

“As far as plans go,” Mei Ling says quietly, looking at Sahelanthropus, “I’ve seen worse.”

Hal can’t help it. He’s been through so much, seen so much. He feels different, now, someone who’s grown, and so he starts laughing. It feels right, feels natural, and even though he’s crying at the same time, Hal laughs until he can’t anymore, and when he looks up, his friends are smiling.

David steps over to him, switching his weight so he’s leaning on Hal’s good shoulder. He looks tired, but gentle, and he’s so very warm and so very alive. 

“You still owe me the truth too,” Meryl teases as David begins to lead them over to where the Sword of Flameheart is resting on the earth. He shakes his head, reaching down with a wince to grab it, the blade still glowing with that internal fire.

“I said when the golem was dead,” David replies, Sahelanthropus looming over them, motionless, Hal’s hand on his chest. “And I still have a promise to keep.”

Together, they bid Sahelanthropus kneel, and Hal refuses to look away as David plunges the sword into the glowing core of the golem’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY okay. the next two chapters after this require some serious editing so i have to get my ass in g e a r


	13. Of Love and Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dark Snake goes home.

David closes his eyes and feels the sun warm his face, exhaling deeply, even though it still makes his ribs ache. Everything is good- it almost seems too good, in a way. Like when he opens his eyes, he’ll see the roaring maw of Sahelanthropus, rather than the placid grass of his cabin.

One of the dogs barks, and he does crack open his eyes, to see Hal rounding the corner of his garden. He’s in a loose white shirt, his hair a bit tangled from the breeze, any hint of his true identity masked under his commoners’ clothes and the bags no longer under his eyes. David likes seeing him like this, open and free, a faint smile on his face.

It had been a long journey back, but a simpler one. They had retrieved Raiden from their camp, where he had been having a small crisis for letting Hal run off, and got horses at a nearby town. From there, it was a straight shot back to David’s cabin, meandering a bit but still much more placid than before.

His home wasn’t built for entertaining four guests at once. They got his dogs back, Mei Ling helped to heal him, and then the party had headed back to the capital, leaving him to his rest.

Or, they should have. Hal had stayed. David knows why, or at least, he thinks he does. He hopes he does. It’s the same thing in him that  _ let _ Hal stay.

The dogs are getting used to him quickly, nosing his legs as he sits in the chair David’s set up next to his own, shading his eyes with his hand. He chuckles and pets any canine head he can reach, his eyes meeting David’s and softening.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, genuine. David finds himself smiling. 

“Not too bad. Still hurts, but I’ve been through worse.”

“I know, I know. You’ve told me.” Hal squints in the sun, left eye twitching slightly. David can’t stop looking at him, piecing together all the little bits that make him so...  _ him.  _ He’s enchanting.

Hal pulls up another chair and sits down. His long legs brush his, another example of the intimacy they’ve suddenly found themselves comfortable in. The dogs are all over them, pushing between before David can hook their ankles like he wants to, and slobbering on the hand Hal has trailed to the side. He laughs, and rubs their snouts.

“When do you have to go back to the city?” 

“Oh, I’m in no rush,” Hal smiles. He leans forwards, and their shoulders almost brush. “I kind of want to stay much longer.”

“That could be arranged,” David murmurs. He’s leaning too, despite the twinge from his cracked ribs. He just wants to be as close to Hal as possible, the spark between them almost palpable. His hand is brushing Hal’s when-

The dogs erupt in a cacophony of barking, barreling through their contact and down the gravel path through the trees. David flinches as they howl, running side by side towards something he can’t quite see, at the end of the road- someone must be coming.

“Someone’s here,” he says, and Hal stands to peer down the path, shading himself with his hand. 

“Are you sure? They might have seen a squirrel...”

“They wouldn’t react that way if it was an animal.” David pulls himself up on shaking arms, even through Hal protests faintly, and whistles sharply. “Alpha! Diamond!”

The dogs are reluctant to return, but they do anyway, the thick fur at their backs raised in aggression. They snarl and pace around David and Hal’s feet, baring their teeth as figures appear at the horizon.

David is immediately suspicious, hands buried in the scruff of Alpha and Diamond’s neck, but Hal tenses, stepping forwards tentatively. “Is that...?”

“Hal?” David says, as the people approach, and Hal gasps, so softly that David can barely hear him, and sprints ahead, the remaining dogs barking at his disappearing form.

David sits down slowly when he sees Hal wrap his arms around one of the figures, all three converging in a group hug. The dogs run wild around his hands as he shifts in his seat, his ribs aching. He runs his hands down furry spines to calm his pack.

It doesn’t take long for Hal to return. His face is elated, and he’s holding something in his arms, something with silver hair clinging to his neck. David looks up at them as he approaches, letting the dogs go to dance around Hal’s feet.

It’s a baby. A child, her eyes wide and brown, hair shining in the midday sun. She giggles at David as Hal holds her close, sitting down adjacent of him.

“Who was there?” David asks, unable to take his eyes off the little girl. She reaches for him, brushing his nose with her tiny hands, eyes sharp and intelligent. He knows who she is- Princess Sunny. Hal’s daughter.

“My moms,” Hal says breathlessly, grinning wildly. “Before they come, David, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask me?” he questions, tearing his eyes from the young Sunny. There’s something in Hal’s voice that’s got a promise in it, something sensitive and raw and everything he wants to hear.

“They’ve come to take me home with Sunny,” Hal replies, playing with his daughter with a free hand. “I’m wanted there. But... there’s other things I want. And it’s lonely here all alone, I figure.”

He knew he’d ask this. He knew that Hal would want him to leave the cabin he’s spent three years mulling over his grief, what he’d done.

But somewhere out in the woods, Kaz had forgiven him, and Grey Fox and his father looked down peacefully from heaven.

So when he leans forwards and kisses Hal, he doesn’t care if Hal’s mothers are coming. He doesn’t care if the rest of the world hasn’t forgiven him. He had everything he needed right here.

Sunny laughs as they pull apart, and when Strangelove and Joy arrive, David and Hal welcome them with open arms, a new family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO fucking sorry this took so long to get up!!! unlike the rest of the chapters i had to rewrite the end of this one. wait until next work for a secret epilogue ;3


	14. Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli and Mantis find who they were searching for.

Mantis leans over the prone body of Eli in his lap, feeling unexpectedly protective under the sharp gaze of the Witch. He brushes the strands of hair away from his face and Eli twitches, but does not wake up. He decides to reach under his armor, looking for something, fingers wrapped in cloth ghosting his skin.

“...why should I help you?” she says, her voice sharp. Mantis scowls under his mask. “You’ve broken into my house, taken advantage of my tools-“

“We’ve come all this way to see you,” Mantis taunts, finally looking up at her. Her familiars coil around her feet, glistening in the red glow of her cauldron. “I’m not leaving without what we want.”

“And what is that?”

Inside the folds of Eli’s underarmor, Mantis finally finds what he’s looking for, and draws out a leather pouch, drawn tightly closed. He tosses it at her, and she picks it up from the floor, opening it curiously. “...Ashes?”

“He-  _ We-  _ want you to bring him back.”

Naomi gasps, nearly dropping the bag. “Wha- are you out of your  _ mind _ ? That’s necromancy, that’s- what did I expect from a  _ warlock _ , honestly...”

Mantis is floating above Eli in a flash, runes leaching the light from the room, eyes shimmering dangerously. Energy crackles around him, inky and perverted, but undeniably powerful. “You hold your tongue, Witch. I’m not afraid of you.”

She eyes him carefully, her familiars hissing menacingly. “...I’ll need time, and materials. Ones that aren’t easy to get. You’ll be here for a long time.”

Mantis sinks back down slowly, resting on his knees. He pulls Eli back up to lie on his lap, and carefully holds him, hoping that somehow, he feels safer there. “We’ll do whatever it takes.”

“You’re fools. Both of you.”

Mantis stares at Eli, and only repeats himself: “Whatever it takes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that’s the end of this story! however, i have plans for a sequel, should people be interested ;3
> 
> i hope you enjoyed just as much as i did!
> 
> EDIT 12/30/19: hey check out this art i made of sahelanthropus [here](https://rainphee-art.tumblr.com/post/189965650910/a-monster-has-been-terrorizing-the-country-a)!

**Author's Note:**

> check me out at @rainphee on [tumblr](https://rainphee.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/rainphee)! i'd love to hear from you.


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